


Compare and Contrast

by crescentmoonshine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eventual Smut, Hand Jobs, I Don't Even Know, Like a bunch of them, M/M, Multi, Public Blow Jobs, Slow Burn, Threesome - M/M/M, Twins, i guess, it gets ridiculous, just read it, there's going to be more songs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:39:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 135,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crescentmoonshine/pseuds/crescentmoonshine
Summary: Based off ofthis post.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't find the original post, so there's a link to the screenshot on my blog and the story that motivated me to post the first few chapters of this fix that I've been working on for months. I've got about 30K written already, and I would love feedback since I haven't OFFICIALLY decided where it's going to end up. I don't even know how long this is going to be. Have fun, hope you like it! X

I sat down in the back row in my first class of the term and cupped my hands round the cup of tea in my hands. This was my only class that started before eleven am this term… even if it was twice a week. I consoled myself with that fact as the room filled in and prayed that nobody asked me to move my bag out of the chair beside me. I wasn’t in the mood for company. That is until one tall, handsome boy walked in.

He was wearing a grey jumper, and had his long hair pulled up into a bun at the back of his head. But what really caught my attention were his legs. A mile long and encased in skin tight black denim that showed off how fit they really were. He wore scuffed white Converses and I smiled to myself. Most people who wore those shoes made an effort to keep them in pristine condition, but this boy obviously didn’t care. I couldn’t stand the look of spotless trainers. They just looked weird.

The boy took a seat two rows ahead of me and pulled out a Macbook for notes just as the professor came in to begin the longest, most boring lecture I’d ever sat through. Accounting was not my favorite subject.

I tried not to stare at him. I really did. But every time my mind began to wander, so did my eyes and they inevitably landed back on him. His hair was a bit messy, stray curls falling out of the man-bun at the nape of his neck and his temples, but I couldn’t blame him for that. It was actually quite endearing… Plus it was eight o’clock. I hadn’t even bothered to put real trousers on. I’d pulled on the first pair of shoes I found, thrown a hoodie over my t-shirt and headed out for class in the joggers I’d slept in last night.

It was probably a good thing, then, that he didn’t stick around once the lecture was over. Instead, he was one of the first to make his way to the door.

 

After my disastrous first day of classes, I woke the next morning feeling refreshed and made a real effort with my appearance. I couldn’t chance running into another bloke as fit as the one from my accounting class looking like I had yesterday. I took a shower, styled my fringe into an artfully messy swish across my forehead, and dressed in my favorite pair of black skinny jeans and a red and black Vans t-shirt -- you know, to match the Vans I wore on my feet. I’m all about consistency.

After a stop for tea, I made it to my eleven o’clock History class with five minutes to spare and was forced to sit much closer to the front than I’d like, in one of only two empty seats left in the room. I dropped my bag into the second chair and hoped nobody else showed up while I pulled out my Macbook to take notes. The professor came in and started getting his notes together for his lecture, and at the very last second, the door burst open, and in strode none other than my crush from Accounting.

He glanced round and his eyes fell on my bag taking up the last empty seat in the room and with a sigh, I moved it to the floor as he approached.

“I don’t appreciate being forced to mingle with the general public, you know.” I sighed dramatically, as he slid into the seat beside me.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make sure you enjoy it.” he smirked in return.

We fell into silence as the lecture on the Great Famine began and I noticed that he, too had gone to more effort for a later class. His hair was down, flowing over his shoulders in loose curls and instead of his casual jeans and hoodie ensemble, he’d worn a blue button up shirt with little white stars all over. It was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing a collection of tattoos. Everything from little doodles to bigger more artistic pieces -- much like my own collection. He still wore those delicious skinny jeans, but he’d traded out his trainers for a pair of black chelsea boots. He caught me checking him out and grinned cheekily at me, revealing dimples deep enough to swim in and I was totally gone. I was in love already.

We made it through about twenty minutes of lecture before the attractive boy next to me sighed and leaned over. “How many potatoes does it take to kill an Irishman?” he whispered.

I turned and lifted an eyebrow at him in question.

“None.” he smirked.

“Dude.” I groaned quietly. “That’s low.”

“Just like the population of Ireland during the Great Famine.” he nodded solemnly, leaning back into his own chair.

“That was quite possibly the worst joke I think I’ve ever heard.” I sighed, shaking my head in disappointment. “But I cannot wait to get home and tell my flatmate. He’s Irish, and he’s going to be deeply offended.”

The boy frowned. “Maybe you _shouldn’t_ tell him, then?”

“Are you kidding? He’ll love it!” I grinned.

We did our best to suppress our laughter, but the professor was definitely eyeing us both by the end of the lesson. As we made our way out of the classroom, I wracked my brain for something witty to say, when he turned to me just outside and held out a hand.

“I’m Harry,” he smiled, showing off those dimples again.

“Louis.” I grinned, shaking his hand.

“I’ll see you around, Louis.” he added with a quick wink before heading off in the opposite direction from my next class.

 

Niall was, in fact deeply offended by Harry’s potato joke, and immediately called everybody he knew back home to tell them, as if he’d come up with it himself. Once he’d calmed down enough to have a mature adult conversation, I begged him to make me lunch while I told him about my morning.

“I met a boy.”

“And?”

“And he’s so fit, Niall! He’s cheeky and gorgeous and I want to lick his dimples. What do I do?”

“Maybe don’t start with licking his dimples…” he chuckled, “But like, you could compliment them. That’s always a nice start. When do you see him again?”

“Tomorrow morning. He’s in my Accounting class on Mondays and Wednesdays, and my History class, Tuesdays and Thursdays. I saw him yesterday, but today he ended up sitting next to me and we ended up talking a bit.”

“So tomorrow morning, compliment him on his dimples and start talking to him. Flirt a little bit. Come on Louis, you know how to snag a boy. Stop overthinking it.” Niall laughed.

I knew he was right, I’d pulled plenty of boys. But this one felt different. Harry wasn’t just fit. He was funny and I liked talking to him. He wasn’t just going to be a one night stand -- not if I had my way, at least.

 

I fully planned on showering and getting dressed for my morning class the next day. I did. I wanted to impress Harry. But when my alarm went off, I couldn’t do it. I snoozed until Niall pounded on my bedroom door and shouted at me to get a move on, bless him. And then I rushed round the room pulling on random pieces of clothing until I was fairly confident I was decent enough to grace the outside world with my presence.

Luckily, Niall had made me a cup of tea to go, since I didn’t actually have time to stop for one, and I planted a kiss on his cheek as I ran out the door.

Harry was hunched over, sleeping on his arms when I entered the class, five minutes early thanks to my homemade tea and I slid hesitantly into the seat next to him. I wanted to talk to him, but he looked so peaceful lying there snuggled up in a Greenbay Packers hoodie. And the circles under his eyes told me that he was just as tired as I was. I texted Niall for advice.

_Me: He’s asleep at his desk! What do I do?_

_Nialler: Let him sleep! Don’t be a twat! Wake him up when the lesson starts though. He’ll appreciate that I bet._

That seemed doable. I spent the next few minutes setting up my laptop and opening my notes -- sparse as they were, since I couldn’t stop staring at Harry last class. When the professor finally came through the door, I nudged Harry gently in the ribs and pressed my lips together in an attempt to hide my amusement when he startled awake.

“Morning, sunshine.” I smirked.

Harry blushed and shot me a shy smile before opening up the laptop he’d been napping on. “Morning.” he mumbled.

I slid down in my chair and watched him adjust his manbun. “It’s too early for an actual _good_ morning.” I yawned.

“Stop that!” he chuckled around a yawn of his own. “I didn’t have time for coffee.”

“You had time for a nap.” I pointed out.

“Only for like, two seconds.” he grinned, showing off those dimples.

Before I had a chance to reply, the professor started his lecture and we both began taking notes. Harry was subdued throughout class, sitting low in his chair, taking notes and focusing all his attention on the lecture. The few times I caught his eye, he blushed and smiled shyly before turning back to the Powerpoint on the screen.

He must’ve been tired, but I found it oddly endearing. I was too tired to flirt or hold much of a conversation myself, but the sleepy smiles and lingering glances were enough to make my stomach fill with butterflies.

“I’m definitely going to fail this class.” I sighed as we packed up our things at the end of the lecture. “It’s too early for anything that requires this much concentration. I’m terrible at math fully awake, but this is torture.”

“Me too.” Harry sighed. “Maybe we should set up a study group.”

I glanced up at him and chuckled at the blush creeping across his cheekbones. “Maybe we should.” I grinned.

“Do you have more classes, today?” he asked as we made our way out of the room.

“Not until this afternoon. You?”

“Same, but I’ve got to work, right now.” he glanced down at his watch and sighed. “I’m actually running a bit late. See you around?”

I nodded as he turned to go before calling out after him. “Hey.” He turned around and lifted a questioning eyebrow. “Before you go, give me those dimples.”

Harry ducked his head before glancing up at me through long lashes and smiling shyly.

“Much better.” I beamed in return. “Have a good day.”

 

My stomach was in knots as I waited for Harry to arrive to class the next morning and when he finally did, alongside the teacher, I almost choked on my tea. He was wearing his usual black skinny jeans with a black blouse on top -- a _sheer_ black blouse. It was unbuttoned halfway down his chest again, showing off, not only the tattoos on his chest, but the sheer material also revealed some on his sternum, hip bones and several more on his left bicep that I hadn’t been able to see before now. My eyes slid down those infinite legs and landed on a pair of gold chelsea boots and I swallowed hard.

He smirked when he caught me staring and shook his hair out with one hand before pushing it up off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. The motion drew my eyes to several rings on his hand and I shook my head in amusement. When he dressed up, he really went for it. And he pulled it off. Then again, he also looked amazing in a hoodie with his hair pulled up in a messy bun. How was that even possible? It’s not fair to be that attractive.

He’d seen me a mess, and seemed to like me enough in that state, but I was still glad I’d made more of an effort today. I was wearing a white t-shirt and a denim jacket with black jeans and Vans, and I looked good. My hair was artfully messy and my fringe was sitting perfectly on my forehead for once. I had high hopes for today.

Harry was a completely different person when he had a cup of coffee in him. He was more confident, more talkative. Flirtatious and cheeky. He reached over and drew a daisy on the corner of my syllabus and I drew a football on his. He made terrible jokes about the topics we were studying and he showed off his dimples like he knew they were a sin. 

Fifteen minutes before the end of class, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He frowned and silenced it, only for it to go off again a minute later. He pulled it out with a sigh and frowned at the screen where a girl’s face smiled back at him as the caller id.

He dismissed the call and opened his messages, tapping out a quick text and got an immediate reply.

“Shit, I’ve got to go,” he whispered as he began to pack up his things, “My sister’s having an emergency. Can I borrow your notes next week for anything I missed?”

“Of course.” I nodded. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“Me too.” he sighed, slipping out of his seat and nodding apologetically at the professor as he left the room.

 

“How’s it going with Lover Boy?” Niall smirked over his beer Friday night.

“Things are going… good. I think. We’ve been flirting quite a bit. I was thinking of asking him for coffee or something yesterday, but he had to leave class early. Some family emergency, I guess. So, we’ll see.” I ended with a shrug.

Niall and I had a tradition of going for pints at our favorite pub every Friday night. We drank until we were loose enough to sing karaoke and then we stumbled back to our flat and played FIFA until we passed out on the couch. Then Niall made me his famous hangover scramble for breakfast and we caught up on any homework we had before playing football in the park all day Sunday. It was our weekend tradition, had been for the past three years.

We sang Celine Dion’s _I Will Always Love You_ that night and received a standing ovation because we were obviously amazing, then I hopped on Niall’s back and he carried me home. We had just come round the corner a block from our flat when Niall let out a gasp and nearly dropped me as he ran into a hard chest.

“Oh! Excuse me!” A large hand caught my shoulder, steadying both of us before I looked up into the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen.

“Harry!” I exclaimed with a grin. “Niall, this is Harry!”

“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, extending a hand from under my knee to shake Harry’s.

“Ah, the Irishman.” Harry grinned. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Not as much as I’ve heard about you, I bet.” Niall laughed loudly.

“Hey!” I frowned, covering his mouth with both hands. “Family secrets, mate!”

Harry smirked and shot me a wink as a tall, boy with dark hair and mysterious eyes joined us. “This is my mate, Zayn.” he introduced us. “Zayn, this is Louis and his mate Niall.”

Zayn nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to Harry. “Just got a text from Liam. They’re waiting on us at the pub.” he murmured in a thick Yorkshire accent.

“I guess that’s my cue.” Harry smiled apologetically at us. “I’ll see you in class?”

“If you can stay awake!” I laughed.

Harry shot me a bemused smile before waving and moving around us with his friend.

“Did you see his dimples?” I exclaimed a little louder than I’d meant to as Niall continued around the corner.

A deep laugh behind me turned my cheeks pink, but Niall’s agreement kept me from dwelling too long on it. It’s not like I hadn’t commented on them to Harry’s face already.

 

I didn’t bother trying to look my best Monday morning. It seemed Harry and I were on the same page when it came to priorities before eight o’clock. Caffeine before fashion. As I suspected, he hadn’t gone all out with the boots and the jewelry. He’d worn a flannel shirt, unbuttoned with a black t-shirt underneath, black jeans, all-black vans and as usual, his gorgeous curly hair was pulled up in a messy bun.

“Looks like you had time for coffee today.” I smirked, dropping into the seat beside him.

“My sister woke me up early.” he chuckled with a nod. “Her dog got hit by a car last week and we’ve all had to chip in a bit and make sure he’s resting enough and not trying to chase the cat round the house.”

I grinned and his eyes widened.

“Sorry, you probably don’t care.” he blushed.

“I do, it’s okay.” I assured him, placing a hand on his arm.

His cheeks dimpled and he dropped his gaze for a moment before shrugging. “The vet basically told us he’s got to be under constant supervision over the next week, so when my sister had to leave for work this morning, she woke me up to take over until my mum got up.”

“Is he going to be okay? The dog?” I asked softly.

“Hope so.” he nodded. “If we can keep him off his hip for a while longer, that is.”

The professor called attention before I could reply and we both turned our attention to the front of the room. When I yawned a moment later, Harry elbowed me in the ribs and muffled a yawn of his own in his elbow. Before shooting me another shy smile.

I chuckled quietly and dropped my head onto his shoulder as the lecture began and to my surprise, he leaned against mine.

Half an hour into the lecture, Harry slipped a scrap of paper onto my keyboard.

_You’re a great cuddler._

_I’m sleepy!!!_

His shoulder shook gently when I slid it back and I heard him yawn into his other hand. When I elbowed him, his yawn was interrupted by a little giggle and I couldn’t hide the fond smile that spread across my lips.

 

“I chickened out!” I groaned as I flopped back on the couch back at my flat after class.

“What?” Niall exclaimed, “You’re kidding!”

“Everything was so perfect!” I whined, “He called me a good cuddler and he kept blushing and smiling and I didn’t want to ruin it all by getting rejected.”

“Wait. You were cuddling in class?” Niall frowned.

“I mean, not _exactly_. I just had my head on his shoulder. And he had his on my head. We were sleepy!” I finished defensively.

“Okay, okay.” he laughed, holding his hands up in surrender. “So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know!” I whined. “I just want to grab his face and kiss him!”

“OR, you could ask him out for coffee tomorrow.” Niall suggested with a smirk.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do my best.” I sighed.

 

It turned out my best had nothing on Harry’s best.

“What the fuck is that?” I hissed, glancing round the room to see if anybody else had noticed the poodle head poking out of Harry’s backpack.

“This is Oliver.” He grinned. “I got stuck dog sitting, but I couldn’t miss class again after leaving early last week so…” he gestured to the poodle as if to say _ta-dah!_

“You’re insane.” I shook my head, reaching for the puppy. “And _you’re_ adorable.” I added to the dog.

“Now you’re just trying to make me jealous.” Harry smirked.

“Is it working?” I grinned.

Harry shot me a wink as the lecture started and we spent the next hour doing our best to keep Oliver quiet on Harry’s lap. He was a pretty mellow puppy -- whether it was due to his natural temperament or his injury, I wasn’t sure -- and he mostly just wagged his tail and soaked up the attention.

“My sisters just got a couple of puppies and they would not have sat still in a backpack that long.” I chuckled as we left class.

“Normally he wouldn’t be so well-behaved either, but the whole broken hip has kind of put a damper on his mood, I think.” Harry sighed. “Anyway, I’ve got to meet my brother to pass him off so I can get to work on time. I’ll see you later.”

My stomach sank as he jogged off, clutching his backpack to his chest and I sighed dejectedly as I headed home.

 

“He ran off before I had a chance!” I whined over my turkey sandwich.

“What do you mean?” Niall laughed, “Quit putting it off to the last minute!”

“He had to go meet someone!”

Niall shook his head and caught my eye with a serious look in his. “Okay, here’s the plan. Tomorrow, you’re not allowed back in the flat unless you’ve asked him out for coffee.”

“That’s cruel!” I pouted.

“That’s my stipulation. Take it or leave it.”

“Fiiiine!” I groaned, “But if he turns me down you owe me an entire night of romcoms without complaint. That’s _my_ stipulation.”

“Deal.” he rolled his eyes, but I knew he’d feel terrible if I got rejected. He’d probably even pay for the ice cream!


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, I actually put jeans on before class. I threw a plain black t-shirt on -- that was probably dirty, let’s be honest -- and made sure I was mostly presentable. I wanted to make a good impression, even at this early hour. The problem was, I didn’t wake up early enough to put in the extra effort, so I didn’t have time to stop for tea, and Niall wasn’t up yet to make me a to-go cup.

I got to class with just a few minutes to spare and found Harry talking to a boy with friendly eyes and a warm smile.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Harry was asking.

“Of course not!” the boy grinned, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s arm.

It was at that moment that Harry noticed me approaching and his whole face lit up like the sun. “Hey, you’re running late today.” he shot me that shy smile and I nearly melted on the spot.

“That’s the price you pay when you decide to wear trousers, I guess.” I shrugged with a yawn.

He chuckled and gave me a quick once over, blushing when he met my eyes and knew that I’d caught him, before clearing his throat and gesturing to his friend. “This is my best mate, Liam. Liam, this is Loius.”

I shook Liam’s hand and he grinned a bit too excitedly until Harry elbowed him and cleared his throat again. “We’re going to be late. I’ll see you later, Liam. Thanks, again.”

“No problem. Nice meeting you, Louis.” he smiled.

“You too.” I nodded before following Harry into class.

We claimed our usual seats near the back and Harry sighed loudly. “I didn’t have time for coffee again. This morning class is going to be the death of me.”

“Me too, mate. Apparently getting dressed really cuts into my morning.”

Harry groaned and rubbed a hand over his face before pulling out his laptop. “I think I even forgot my phone at home. But, at least I got Liam to cover my shift at work today.”

“Oh yeah? Any fun plans?” I asked with a teasing smile.

Harry bit his lip and blushed a bit before shaking his head. “Nothing.”

As usual, the lecture began just as I was getting somewhere and we were forced to take notes for the next hour if we wanted to pass. About halfway through, though, I was getting extremely sleepy and laid my head on Harry’s shoulder with a sigh.

“You’re going to make me fall asleep, too.” he whispered, lying his head on top of mine like last time.

“Let’s just go take a long nap after class. Someone told me I’m a good cuddler.” I teased softly.

“I believe the word was _great_.” I could hear the smile in his voice, even in a whisper, and it made my cheeks burn.

Towards the end of class I felt something on my arm and looked down to find Harry doodling on my skin. Between the other random doodles of skateboards and teacups, he added a paper airplane. He looked up at me, blushing adorably and my heart melted.

“So you haven’t had coffee, and you don’t have to work today.” I stated as we left the classroom a little white later.

“That’s about right, yeah.” He grinned, dimples popping.

“And you have no other exciting plans to speak of?” I checked, arching an eyebrow sideways at him.

He opened his mouth to reply when a familiar deep voice caught both our attention.

“Hey! You forgot this!” A boy who looked exactly like Harry panted, jogging up and holding out an iPhone to Harry.

My eyes widened as he thanked his doppleganger, taking the offered phone and stuffing it into his pocket.

“Wait, you’ve got a twin?” I exclaimed.

His twin turned, noticing me for the first time and cocked his head at me.

“Yeah,” Harry blushed, “This is Harry.”

That brought a frown to my face. “I thought _your_ name was Harry!”

“My name is not Harry.” he shook his head.

“I’m Harry. I’m in your History class.” The real Harry smirked.

“Jesus Christ, who do I have a crush on then?!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in defeat.

Harry shrugged, that arrogant smirk I’d grown to love over the past week bumping up a notch. “You tell us.”

“I don’t know! I thought you were the same person!”

The boys exchanged a look before frowning back at me. “How is that even possible?” Accounting Harry -- whose name, apparently _wasn’t_ Harry -- asked.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but the two of you look very alike.” I deadpanned.

“But… we don’t _act_ alike.” he shrugged, green eyes dropping to the grass beneath his feet. “We don’t even dress alike.”

“I just… I thought you dressed more comfortably in the early morning and more… eccentrically once you’d woken up a bit more.” I shrugged.

Harry threw his head back on a laugh, while (Not) Harry frowned a bit.

“Come on, today is the first day you’ve seen me in anything but whatever I’d slept in the night before.” I pointed out. “I was trying to make a good impression because I wanted to ask you to coffee. But I still haven’t had any caffeine today and this is really doing my head in.” I finished, sagging slightly.

“You were going to ask me to coffee?”

“Where did you think I was going with that?” I smirked, poking him in the ribs.

“You don’t even know my name.” he pointed out with a shy smile.

“Is it my fault your brother seems to have better manners than you and actually introduced himself?” I asked.

“Aww, lay off.” Harry laughed, throwing his arm round his brother’s shoulders. “He’s shy!”

Instead of rolling his eyes and pushing him off like most people would do with their brother, (Not) Harry leaned into the side hug with a little smile.

“I’m Louis.” I introduced myself, holding out my hand with a fond smile.

“I’m not Harry.” he smirked, taking my hand and giving it a firm shake.

“You’re not going to tell me?!” I whined, “I’m going to have to call you Not-Harry forever if you don’t tell me your real name.”

“What do you think?” he asked, smirking over at his twin. “Does he deserve it?”

Harry shook his head. “Not a chance.”

I sighed and poked my lip out on a pout. “Would you both like to come get coffee with me?” I pled. “Now that I know there’s two of you, I’d really like to get to know you both. Separately as individuals, instead of as one person, if you’ll let me.”

“We’re not having a threesome with you.” Harry announced bluntly.

“What?!” I exclaimed, “No! I didn’t mean -- I just meant coffee! I--”

“Relax.” he chuckled. “I was just clarifying. Don’t go there.”

“I won’t. I promise.” I sighed, holding up my hands in surrender.

“What do you say, Not-Harry? Wanna go get some coffee with this adorable idiot?” he smirked at his brother.

“He drinks tea.” he smiled shyly, “But yeah. We can do that.” he nodded.

 

_Me: JFC Ni, I’m going for coffee. I’ll be late, don’t lock me out!_

_Niall: I want to hear everything when you get home!_

_Me: Youre gonna need popcorn!_

 

We got a table in a corner and both boys sat across from me. I glanced back and forth between them in awe. I was no stranger to twins, I had two sets in my family, after all. But these two boys were absolutely identical. They both had a small mole on their left jaw, they had the same striking green eyes and sinful dimples and they were both staring at me expectantly. Shit. 

I took a sip of my tea and cleared my throat. “I don’t even know where to begin. This is all so weird.” I admitted.

“For us too,” Not-Harry nodded. “I don’t think we’ve ever…” he trailed off with a blush and sipped at his latte.

“We’ve never had a crush on the same person before.” Harry finished for him with a smirk.

Not-Harry smiled shyly up at me and as I looked back and forth between them I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it before. “I don’t know how I didn’t figure this out. You were right, Not-Harry, you’re completely different. I just chalked it up to… you being tired in the mornings. Turns out you were tired and _shy_ , while Harry, you’re… Cheeky.” I grinned.

The boys exchanged a grin and nodded. “That might be the most accurate description we’ve ever gotten.” Harry laughed.

“So… I ran into you when I was drunk?” I asked Harry.

“Ah, yes. How’s your Irishman? Niall?”

“Oh God, tell me he didn’t tell you the potato joke?” Not-Harry groaned.

“That’s a good joke!” Harry scoffed.

“He did.” I grinned. “And Niall loved it. Called everyone he knew back home. You probably should have trademarked it first.”

“Don’t give him that much credit, the jokes he makes up on his own are even worse.” Not-Harry rolled his eyes playfully.

“You used to be more fun.” Harry pouted. “When I told you that giraffe joke, you laughed til you wet yourself.”

“I was seven.” Not-Harry shrugged.

“So, tell me more about you both.” I prodded, “You have a sister, I’ve gathered. And a dog named Oliver.”

“Louis helped me babysit Oliver in class yesterday.” Harry explained. “I think that’s what sealed the deal.”

“Your lack of problem solving skills?” Not-Harry smirked. “The fact that you thought your best option wasn’t asking Zayn to dogsit, but to stuff an injured puppy in a rucksack is what attracted Louis?”

“I’d like to think so, yeah.” he nodded, poking his lower lip out thoughtfully.

“It definitely wasn’t the dimples.” I scoffed, earning two sets of said dimples pointed my way.

“Well, er, yeah. We have a sister. Her name’s Gemma and our mum is Anne. And then there’s Oliver the poodle and we’ve got a cat named Dusty and a stepdad named Robin.” Not-Harry finished.

“How about you?” Harry asked. “Got any family?”

“You could say that.” I chuckled. “I’ve got a mum called Johanna, and I’ve got a little brother named Ernest. And then I’ve got five sisters and a total of three fathers with varying degrees of involvement in my life.”

“Wow.” Not-Harry’s eyes widened. “I thought one sister was a rollercoaster.”

“To be fair, Gemma is a rollercoaster all on her own.” Harry reasoned. “But I can’t imagine having five of her.”

“How old are your siblings?” Not-Harry asked.

“Ranging from two to eighteen.”

Both boy’s faces lit up and they turned to each other with matching grins. “Two!”

“I take it you like kids?” I chuckled.

“Can we meet them?” Harry begged, “We love kids!”

“Maybe we should wait until he’s convinced we’re not creeps.” Not-Harry laughed.

“You drew a paper airplane on my arm, mate.” I chuckled. “Most people would have gone for a dick or something, I’m pretty sure you aren’t a creep. This one, on the other hand carries puppies round in bags.”

Harry pouted for a moment as Not-Harry and I shared a laugh before it looked like something occurred to him. “You drew a paper airplane on his arm?”

Not-Harry blushed and shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

I held out my arm to show him and he held out his own in response. “See all these random little doodles?” he asked, pushing up the sleeve of his Rolling Stones t-shirt. “When we were eighteen we started this bet, that if he could draw something on me while I was asleep, I had to get it tattooed onto my skin. I’ve got about a hundred random tattoos that happened only because I sleep too heavily!”

“Stop being dramatic.” Not-Harry smirked, “It goes both ways!”

“And how many tattoos have you got then?” I asked.

“None.” he grinned.

“None!” Harry exclaimed, as if I hadn’t heard him. “This kid wakes up for anything!”

“Keep trying, Haz.” he chuckled in return.

“So are you going to get your paper airplane tattooed on, or what?” Harry pressed.

“He wasn’t even asleep!” Not-Harry argued before turning back to me. “You don’t have to. Don’t listen to him.”

“Of course you don’t have to.” Harry shrugged. “We’ll just be judging you if you don’t.”

 

“Another tattoo?” Niall groaned as I entered the flat with a small gauze bandage wrapped round my forearm. Niall didn’t have any tattoos. Wasn’t against them, necessarily, but he wasn’t into them either. And every time I came home with another stupid one, I’m sure he thanked God he’d never have those regrets later in life.

Not that I would regret any of mine. Even the stupid tattoos had great stories behind them. Like my newest one.

“I told you, you’re gonna need popcorn for this story.” I chuckled, dropping onto the couch next to him.

“Show me the tattoo.” he nudged me with his elbow. “You didn’t agree to get _I love Harry_ tattooed on your body in exchange for a coffee date, did you?”

“The coffee date was kind of just a forgone conclusion to what happened before the coffee.” I sighed, pulling the bandage off. “And this was the result of both.”

“A paper airplane?” he frowned. “Why?”

“He drew it on me during class. Apparently he and his brother have this running bet that if they can draw something on each other while they’re asleep, they have to get it tattooed on. Harry’s got a whole collection, and Not-Harry doesn’t have a single one.”

“And he got one over on you, did he?” Niall chuckled.

“Nah, I didn’t fall asleep. Harry just insisted, and I figured, _why not?_ ”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Anyway, tell me what happened. Before coffee and stupid tattoos.”

“They’re twins.”

There was a beat of silence before Niall burst out in laughter and I reluctantly joined him. “You of all people should have seen that coming.”

“I know!” I groaned. “But I only ever saw them separately! Together, they’re totally different! I mean, even separately, they have completely different personalities, but I just thought Not-Harry was quieter in the mornings because we were always tired during our morning class. Turns out he’s shy. And Harry! I thought he was just awake and more talkative, and made more effort to get dressed because it wasn’t so early in the morning. Turns out he just always dresses like a hipster and always tells terrible jokes. And Not-Harry--”

“Wait, what’s the other one’s name?” Niall frowned.

“I don’t know. The little shits won’t tell me.”

Niall rolled right off the couch laughing so hard. “I have to meet these boys.” he panted through his tears. “Which one did I meet last weekend?”

“Harry. Luckily, since I don’t think I could’ve handled all this information in a drunken state.” I chuckled. “And you will meet them. They’re coming out with us Friday night.”

“Perfect! You can win him over with your karaoke skills! Wait, which one do you have a crush on?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” I sighed.

 

Harry was smirking the moment he spotted me in class the next morning.

“Shut up, I know.” I grumbled.

“You don’t understand, this hasn’t happened since we were like eight. Nobody gets us confused anymore.”

“Knowing there are two of you, I can understand why, really.” I sighed. “But I saw him in my Monday class and thought he was cute, and then you walked in here the next day and I thought you were him. I hadn’t talked to him yet. Then the next day I sat next to him thinking he was you and that we were at that level now, and he was sleeping so I woke him up. And he didn’t talk much, but he was obviously like, super tired. It made sense at the time…” I trailed off.

“We talked about it last night.” Harry chuckled. “We can see where you’re coming from. It doesn’t make it any less funny, though.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes.

“We’ve never liked the same person before.” Harry murmured as the professor started his Powerpoint. “We don’t really know how to handle it.”

“I’ve never liked two people at the same time before. I don’t know how to handle it either.” I sighed. I had stayed up late the previous night talking things over with Niall, trying to figure out if I had been more drawn to one than the other, even if I thought they were one and the same, but the truth was, I liked them both. They were both funny and gorgeous and cheeky. Harry was smart and used his knowledge to make up terrible jokes about the War of 1812 or Henry VIII. And Not-Harry was sweet and shy and blushed so easily and loved to cuddle as much as me. With me. How could anybody choose?

“We decided that we’re going to let you choose. We’ve both agreed that we’ll accept whatever you decide. And there won’t be any hard feelings. We both like hanging out with you and we’d like to get to know you better. As friends, or as… more.”

I looked up and found him staring at me with the most genuine smile I’d ever seen on him. It wasn’t his cheeky grin or his arrogant smirk. It was… just genuinely nice. “No pressure, right?” I huffed an awkward laugh.

“Seriously, no pressure. And no rush. Don’t work yourself up over it. Let’s just go out this weekend and have fun. As a group. We’ll bring Zayn and Liam along and just… have fun. All of us.”

I nodded and returned his soft smile just as our professor cleared her throat. I turned back to the front and gave her an apologetic smile, ignoring the quiet chuckle beside me and focusing my attention on my notes.

We stepped out into the sun after class and paused at the edge of the lawn, both of us shuffling somewhat nervously, neither of us eager to end our time together, but unsure where to go from here.

“H!” A warm voice called from across the lawn.

We both turned at the sound and Harry sighed as a girl approached holding a poodle. “Hiya, Gem.” he smiled, reaching for Oliver.

“You sure you can take him until the kid gets off work?” she asked, glancing sideways at me.

“‘Course.” he nodded. “Gem, this is Louis. Louis, this is my sister Gemma.”

“Ahh, the one who has a crush on both my brothers?” she grinned, pulling me into a hug. “You’re cute, no wonder they’re fighting over you.” she added quietly.

“Heyyy.” Harry pouted. “Go to work.”

“I’m actually running late, so I’ll see you later.” she smirked, “It was nice meeting you, Louis. I hope to see more of you.”

“I’m sure you will.” I laughed.

She waved over her shoulder and took off back towards the parking lot leaving us alone and awkward once again.

“I guess I should…” I trailed off with a shrug.

“Hey,” Harry took a step towards me, green eyes boring into my soul. “I’m heading over to hang out with Zayn. I promised I’d help him with an art project. You wanna come along?”

“Oh, erm. Yeah. Sure. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but. Sure.”

“You don’t need to help. Just sit there and look pretty. Keep us company.” he grinned.

It turned out Zayn’s flat was just around the corner, and Harry filled the short walk with chatter about Zayn’s upcoming gallery show. Apparently he was taking a class that required him to put together a show in a real gallery by the end of term and he was doing a series of large scale portraits for it.

Harry entered the flat without knocking and Zayn’s Yorkshire accent called to us from the opposite end of the large loft. “Over here! What took you so long?”

“Brought Oliver.” Harry called back, nodding for me to follow him towards Zayn’s voice. “And Louis.”

“Are we still calling your brother Not-Harry, or are we over that?”

“Not over it.” Harry smirked while I punched him in the arm.

“Twat.” I muttered, earning myself a beautiful set of dimples.

We zigzagged around a couple of couches pushed out of position, I guessed, and wound around a huge canvas facing French doors that led to a brick terrace. Zayn stood on a step ladder, tongue sticking out as he stroked some paint onto a pair of giant lips. Harry’s giant lips.

“Wow.” I sighed.

Zayn turned and grinned down at the three of us. “Hey, mate. Good to see you again.”

“You too. This is amazing.”

“Thanks!” he grinned. “Mmmm…my friend. Harry’s Brother. Not-Harry. Him. That kid. Jesus Christ this is hard. Not-Harry is my partner for this project. He’s taking the photos, and I’m painting them.”

I pressed my lips together in an effort not to laugh at his frustration and instead stepped back to get a better look at the huge canvas. It was a photo of Harry on the right and Not-Harry on the left in profile, printed directly onto canvas. Now that I knew them -- or knew that there was more than one of them -- I could spot the difference immediately, even though Not-Harry had his hair down around his shoulders looking more like his brother than ever.

Both their bare shoulders were just visible at the bottom of the canvas and a couple of Harry’s tattoos peeked out, but other than that they were completely identical. Except for the paint.

There were a few swirls of blue and silver surrounding Not-Harry’s head on one end, and on the other, there were swirls of yellow and orange and gold surrounding Harry’s.

“We’re doing kind of a compare and contrast thing.” Zayn explained. “We’re going to take a series of photos of Harry and… Not-Harry, making them look as identical as possible in the photos. And then we’ll blow them up like this, and add--”

“The things that make them unique.” I finished for him.

When neither of them answered I turned to find them both smiling at me. “Yeah.” Zayn nodded.

“I like it.” I grinned. “I mean, the idea is amazing, and the photos are gorgeous, and the paint is… beautiful.”

“Thanks, mate.” Zayn grinned, moving the step ladder out of the way. “That’s why I needed Harry. He’s got full creative license since it’s his brain we’re dissecting.”

“We wanted to do like, a bigger series, a couple more sets of twins so we could really expand on it, but.” Harry shrugged. “We don’t know any other identical ones, and time is too tight to go on a proper model search, so. He’s stuck with us.” he threw his arm round Zayn’s shoulders and pressed a loud kiss to his cheek.

I bit back a smile and pulled out my phone. “Can I take a picture of this? I want to send it to my mum. I think she’d love it.”

“I mean, it’s not finished yet, but, sure.” Zayn shrugged, stepping out of the way.

I snapped a picture just as we heard the door open. “Honey, I’m home!” A deep, warm voice called.

“We’re over here!” Zayn called back. “Did you bring lunch?”

“Course we did!” Liam grinned as he stepped around the end of the canvas with a pizza box in hand. “Oh! Louis! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Neither did--” I trialed off when Not-Harry stepped up behind Liam with another pizza box and wide, horrified eyes. “Hey.” I smiled hesitantly. “Um… Harry invited me over, after class.”

“Hi.” Not-Harry mumbled, glancing at the ten foot tall portrait I had clearly been staring at. “Um, this is... “

“Relax, I already explained the whole thing.” Zayn chuckled. “And he thinks it’s sick.”

Not-Harry’s eyes bounced back to me, narrowing questioningly and I nodded. “You took this photo?” When he nodded, I shook my head in awe. “It’s amazing, seriously. Gorgeous.”

“And not just because it’s got my face on.” Harry chipped in, looping an arm round his brothers shoulders. “It’s a great photo, Kid. Stop bricking yourself and pass the pizza.” he pressed a smacking kiss to Not-Harry’s cheek, just like he’d just done to Zayn and relieved him from his box.

“You like it?” he asked as the other boys opened up the pizza boxes on the coffee table that had been pushed into the corner.

“Seriously, Not-Harry. I love it. You’re very talented, I had no idea.”

“Thank you.” he smiled shyly. “Do you want some pizza?”

“Oh, I--”

“Here.” I turned to find a plate being shoved into my hands by a grinning Harry and laughed. 

“Thanks. Sorry, I didn’t mean to like, intrude.” I added to Not-Harry.

“It’s okay. I mean, you’re not. I was just… surprised.”

Harry shoved a plate into his brother’s hands next. “Can’t be getting fat on my own, eat up!”

Not-Harry rolled his eyes and took the offered food and we all took seats on the floor with our backs against the French doors.

“Are you an art major?” I asked, still entranced by the photo across from us.

“Photography.” he nodded. “But I’m taking this project class. It’s a group project and we have to collaborate with someone and put together a show. I guess Zayn probably told you, huh?”

“A little bit.” I nodded. “How many pieces are you going to have?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Originally we wanted to do a couple other sets of twins, but it looks like it’s just going to be us. So probably only like five. People will get bored of seeing our faces if we do much more than that.” he laughed.

“No one’s going to get bored of those faces.” I laughed.

Harry dropped down on my other side with Oliver in his lap and grinned at me. “I told you you had nothing to get worked up about. Look at us! Just three regular lads having fun!”

“You’re insane.” Not-Harry laughed.

“You’re just jealous I got to spend all morning with our Little Lou.” he replied, throwing an arm round my shoulder and pulling me roughly into his side.

“And you’re just jealous I’m going to spend all morning tomorrow cuddling with him while we pretend to pay attention in Accounting.”

“You’re cuddling with Not-Harry, and not... Harry?” Harry pouted down at me.

“What do you call this?” I smirked. “And _how_ has nobody managed to slip and call Not-Harry by his real name yet?”

“We’re very committed to our cause.” Harry grinned.

“Not to mention, he and Gem call me the Kid half the time anyways.”

“So Gemma just got lucky this morning? She wasn’t actually in on it?” I asked.

“She knows we’re not telling you, but she didn’t realize you were you until I told her. So yes she’s in on it, _and_ yes she got lucky.” Harry laughed.

“This is so unfair.” I pouted.

“Tell you what, when you make your decision, we’ll think about telling you.” Harry grinned.

“This is literally the hardest decision of my life.” I sighed.

Before either boy could respond, my phone began buzzing in my pocket.

“Sorry.” I muttered, pulling it out. “It’s Niall.”

“Go ahead.” Harry nodded, dropping his arm from my shoulder and scratching Oliver behind the ears.

I didn’t move away from the twins as I answered. “Hey.”

“What are you doing? Is it important?” He was out of breath, it sounded like he was running.

“Just hanging out. What’s up? Are you running? Don’t stress that knee!”

“Somebody cancelled and there’s a free studio. Can you meet me in ten minutes?” he asked, disregarding my concern over his knee.

“Shit… er, yeah. I’ll see you in ten.”

“Alright, I’m on my way now. See ya there.” He hung up and I stared down at my phone for a moment.

“Heading out?” Harry asked.

“Er, yeah. Sorry, I’ve got a project going on right now, too. A studio opened up, so Ni and I have to get in there and get some recording done.” I got to my feet and looked around for someplace appropriate to put my plate.

“Here.” Not-Harry leapt to his feet and led me to the kitchen where we both dropped our plates in the sink. “Don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll get to them in a bit.”

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“I want to hear about your project, because it sounds way cooler than ours, but I’ll let you explain tomorrow. Get out of here for now.” he smiled.

We made our way towards the front door where Harry was waiting on us with Oliver tucked under his arm. “I’ll see you in the morning.” I chuckled to Not-Harry before turning to his brother. “And I’ll see you Thursday, I guess?”

“Sounds good. Have fun with your Irishman.” Harry grinned.

 

“What is this?” I asked as I dropped into my regular seat beside Not-Harry.

“Tea.” he shrugged, lifting his own to-go cup in front of his smiling lips.

“Are you trying to sway my vote?” I narrowed my eyes playfully before taking a sip.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he shrugged, hiding a smirk of his own behind a cup of coffee.

“Thank you.” I smiled softly, dropping my head to his shoulder. Even though I’d made it to class ten minutes early, I hadn’t actually stopped for tea.

Not-Harry’s head dropped to mine and I felt his lips curve up into a smile. “Tell me about your project with Niall?” he asked quietly.

“It’s not as cool as you’re assuming.” I chuckled. “We’re just recording a single and making a music video for a songwriting class we’re taking.”

“That’s your major?” he murmured.

“Mhmm.” I nodded slowly.

“Do you sing?”

“A little bit. I mean… I _do_ , obviously. I’ll be singing this one. Niall too. But erm, I’m not really good enough to make a career out of it. I mostly just like writing.”

“I’d love to hear you sometime.”

“You’ll definitely hear us tomorrow night. We’re legends at Karaoke.”

“I bet you are.” he chuckled. “What’s your song about? Is it a love song?”

I scoffed and shook my head. “No. It’s kind of… like a friends song, I guess. About late nights hanging out, getting drunk and having weird conversations. It’s pretty much the definition of our friendship. Something a bit different.”

“Sounds great.” he lifted his head and I looked up to find him grinning down at me. “What are you going to do for the video?”

“We’re still throwing a couple of options around.” I shrugged. “Not quite sure yet.”

“Let me know if you need some help. I have a camera, I’m pretty decent with it.” he smiled shyly.

“That would be amazing, actually.” I grinned. “Thank you.”

The professor booted up her projector and I sighed and laid my head back on Not-Harry’s shoulder. “We’re going to fail this class, aren’t we?”

“Probably.” he chuckled, leaning into me.

 

“What are you up to today?” Not-Harry asked as we made our way out to the quad.

“I’ve got some studio time next, then another class this afternoon. I’m heading home tomorrow after classes to see my mum for the night.”

“And the kids?” he asked with a bright smile.

“And the kids.” I nodded. “All six of them.”

“That’s amazing.” he grinned, dimples blazing.

“You’re adorable.” I chuckled, poking him in the ribs. “What about you?”

“Work, then class tonight.” he shrugged. “Much less interesting.”

“Where do you work?” I asked, realizing I’d never thought about it.

“Liam, Harry and I all work at the bakery on 7th Street.”

“And he can bake.” I sighed, shaking my head in amusement. “You just keep getting better and better.”

Not-Harry smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” I asked softly, stepping forward and tugging on the bottom of his black t-shirt.

“Nothing. Just… Nothing.” He shrugged and attempted another smile that fell flat.

“If I knew your name I would be saying it in my sternest voice right now, but I don’t. So I’m just going to stare at you expectantly until you cave.” I pressed my lips together and lifted my eyebrows at the beautiful boy in front of me.

It didn’t take more than five seconds before Not-Harry threw his head back on a laugh and shook his head. “You’re impossible.” he chuckled, dropping his gaze shyly. “It’s just… I’m trying not to like you, but… you’re making it really difficult.”

“Why are you trying not to like me?” I frowned, my knuckles brushed the warm soft skin on his hip and he blushed as I knotted my fist in the hem of his shirt.

“Because I know you’ll end up picking Harry.” he murmured quietly.

“Why’s that?”

“Because that’s how it always goes.” he shrugged without meeting my eyes. “I love him, he’s my best friend. But… _everybody_ loves him. It’s always how it’s been. People are just drawn to him. I’ve never been jealous of him, really. We both have our own strengths and interests. But… Like we said. We’ve never liked the same boy before. I’ve never had to compete against him.”

I stared at him in shocked silence for longer than was probably appropriate, which was accentuated when Not-Harry’s eyes finally snapped up to mine.

“Sorry!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to like… guilt you or lay that all--”

“No,” I cut him off, shaking my head vigorously. “I’m just… shocked. I mean… I know what you mean about Harry. People are drawn to him, yes. He’s vibrant and cheeky and gorgeous and… he just has one of those personalities that draws you in. I definitely agree. But… I disagree with the idea that you would be out of the running just because you’re up against him. Because that is the farthest thing from the truth.”

Not-Harry’s frown softened just a little and his cheeks tinged pink. “Yeah?”

“I said it yesterday, and I’ll say it again, Kid. This is literally the toughest decision I’ve ever had to make. And spending time with the two of you yesterday just made it harder. It’s not the fact that I have two equally pretty boys fighting for my affections. It’s the fact that… both those boys are equally deserving of them. I don’t know what I did to deserve either of you, but… both of you are amazing. You’re beautiful and smart and creative and sweet and I just want to wrap you up and hold onto you forever. And then there’s Harry who’s cheeky and funny and smart and vibrant and I just want to like, listen to him talk... watch him be. And then the two of you together are like, a force to be reckoned with. You’re two completely different people but you’re also like… two halves of a whole. And I know how much you must hate hearing that, being a twin and all, but I don’t mean it in a twin capacity, like you’re nothing but a set. I mean it like… you’re amazing apart, but together you’re like… everything. And I don’t know how I’ll ever decide between the two of you.”

His lips quirked like he was trying to hide a smile, and he nodded once. “I guess I can accept that.” he chuckled quietly.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re amazing.” I smiled, pulling him in for a hug.

Not-Harry’s arms wrapped around me and I sighed into his collar bone, holding on tightly.

“I should probably get to work.” he sighed after a moment.

“I should probably get to the studio.” I murmured.

We didn’t move for at least another minute before exhaling and stepping away at the same time. Not-Harry’s hands slid down my arms and caught mine for a moment, giving them both a small squeeze before dropping them with a smile.

“Have fun with the kids tomorrow night.”

“Have fun with the cupcakes.”

 

“I have a weird favor to ask.”

My mum’s hands froze over the kettle and she glanced over her shoulder at me. “Is that why you came home on a Thursday night? You needed something?”

“I… No. I mean, yes, but… It’s not really a favor. More like… I don’t know.”

“Love, what do you need?” she asked, turning to me with crossed arms and stern eyes.

“I was… I met these boys.”

Mum’s eyebrows arched. “Plural?”

“It’s not like that… I mean… They’re friends.” For now. “They’re twins.”

“Get on with it. What do you need from me?”

“They’re doing this project, see. One of them is a photography major and their friend is an art major and together they’re supposed to put together a gallery show. So they’re going this thing with juxtaposition using the twins. They’re taking a series of photos of the two of them looking identical, and then Zayn, the artist, is printing them on these giant canvases and painting them to show how unique each twin is, despite their looks.”

“That’s... actually pretty amazing.” She lifted her eyebrows in awe.

“That’s what I said.” I nodded. “The thing is, they originally wanted to use a couple of sets of twins, but they didn’t know any and didn’t have time for a formal casting call. So… I wondered if you’d let me introduce them to the girls. I haven’t mentioned it to them yet, I’m asking you first. If it’s alright with you, and if they’d like to do it, I think they’d all really love it.”

“What kind of photos would they be?” she asked.

“I mean, I’m sure that’s up for discussion. But…” I pulled up the photo of the painting in progress and held out my phone to my mum. “This is the one they’re working on now.”

She took the phone, zooming in and examining it closer for a moment before sighing. “This is beautiful, but… I don’t know these boys. I don’t know how I feel about them taking photos of my twelve year old daughters.”

“I know.” I nodded. “That’s why I haven’t told them I have access to twins for them.”

“At the same time, though, I think the girls would love this.” she sighed, dropping into the chair beside me at the kitchen table.

“I agree.” I chuckled. “They’d have so much fun.”

“Can I meet them before I make a decision?”

“Of course.” I nodded. “Are you and Dan still planning on going to the theater Saturday night?”

“If we can find a sitter.” She shrugged “Lottie has a date and Fizzy will be at Tasha’s.”

“Why don’t you bring them to mine? You can come earlier in the day, meet the boys, and if you’re okay with it, we can take photos while you’re at the theater.”

“That could work…” she nodded slowly.

I waited patiently as she tossed her options around in her head before she got to her feet and called up the stairs. “Phoebe! Daisy! Come down here, please?”

There was a stampede of footfalls coming down the stairs and a moment later the girls rounded the corner. “Yes, mum?” Daisy asked as Phoebe headed for the fridge.

“How would you feel about doing a photoshoot?”

Both girls rounded on us with wide eyes. “What?”

“I have some friends who would like to do a photoshoot of identical twins. And I wondered if you’d like to meet them.” I explained. “I mean, it’s no guarantee. I’d just be introducing you to them. But if you’d like, you might end up on ten foot tall canvases in a gallery show at the end of term.”

“But like… a twin one?” Daisy asked skeptically, sharing a glance with her twin.

I explained the concept and passed them both my phone to see the progress shot of the boys -- who they both proclaimed to be drool-worthy -- and before I knew it I had two willing volunteers. They loved the idea of highlighting the inner differences between two people who looked so much alike. It was a constant struggle in their lives, after all.

I told them to bring a couple of matching, but simple outfits in case the boys wanted to photograph them that night and they ran off to prepare and discuss what they wanted their portraits to look like, while I followed mum to the living room to play with Ernie and Doris.

I made a video of Ernie eating a mango and sent it in a group message to Harry and… Not-Harry. And they responded with a slew of exclamation points and heart eye emojis.

 

_Me: What are you doing saturday?_

_Harry: Working on our project probably_

_Not-Harry: Taking a few more photos hopefully!_

_Me: Can I come hang out? I might have a surprise for you both._

_Harry: Only if we get presents._

_Not-Harry: Is the present a baby?_

_Me: Totally._

_Not-Harry: Then YES!_

_Harry: Then YES!_

_Me: You guys are insane. I’ll see your pretty faces tomorrow dorks. xx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! Pleeeease keep them coming! X


	3. Chapter 3

Niall and I were the first ones to the pub, and while he complained that I wouldn’t be pairing shots with my pints tonight since I’d be on babysitting duty the following day, I was scanning the pub for our friends. Our table was in a far corner and we couldn’t see the door, but we had scored ourselves a U-shaped booth that could fit all six of us.

A curly head caught my eye between the crowd and I watched it bob along until Not-Harry emerged from the masses with a dimpled smile. His hair was down, for the first time since I’d known him and he was in a loose white henley and black skinny jeans with tan boots. He flipped his hair in a very Harry-esque way and I stood to greet him with a hug.

“You look great, Kid.” I grinned, pulling him in for a hug.

“You called me Kid.” he giggled into my hair.

I pulled back and rolled my eyes up to him. “Well if you’d tell me your name…”

He grinned and shook his head. “Honestly, I kind of wondered if you’d think I was H at first… With the hair and the clothes and all...” he ducked his head with a bashful smile.

“No way.” I chuckled. “Harry wears ten rings and a sheer blouse on a normal Wednesday morning. I can’t imagine he’d show up to a night out in a henley, amazing as it looks on you.”

His cheeks bloomed pink, interrupted only by his dimples and I grinned back at him.

“Come here.” I caught his hand and pulled him back to the corner booth where Niall was waiting on us. “This is my best mate Niall. Ni, this is… Not-Harry.” I ended with another eyeroll.

“You’re going to tell me your real name so I can hold it over his head for the rest of this game, aren’t you?” Niall asked without bothering with a greeting first.

Not-Harry grinned and slid into the booth next to Niall, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“This is so unfair!” I exclaimed.

“So is the amount of contact you’ve been having with my brother compared to me.” A deep velvety voice chipped in from behind me.

I turned to grin at Harry and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “You look gorgeous, Haz.” I murmured in his ear. And as predicted, he was wearing a pink polka dotted blouse that reminded me of Minnie Mouse with his signature black jeans and some black heeled boots with buckles on the ankle.

“Likewise.” he smirked, dipping to press a chaste kiss to my cheek.

“Oi!” Not-Harry shouted behind me.

“Oi!” Harry shouted back with a dimpled smirk.

“Oi!” Niall joined in. “Come have a shot! This twat isn’t taking any!”

“Oi!” I shouted, shooting him a significant look. We’d discussed this.

We joined Niall and Not-Harry in the booth and somehow I ended up sandwiched between the twins as they took shots. Liam and Zayn arrived a few minutes later with another round of pints and shots and after Niall volunteered to take my shot for me, we set to work loosening up with beer.

“So Liam is your best friend,” I began, pointing to Not-Harry, “And Zayn is yours,” I turned to Harry, “And now they’re together.” I summarized, turning to the couple across from me.

“We grew up with Liam,” Harry explained, “And we met Zayn about five years ago. And they fell madly in love.”

“Awwwww!!!” Niall cooed loudly over the table.

“Don’t encourage them, they’re disgustingly adorable.” Not-Harry groaned, causing them to lean in and kiss dramatically.

The rest of us booed and threw balled up napkins across the table at them until they separated and Zayn smirked at Harry. “I give it a week until one of you is just as loved up and disgusting as us.”

“I say we make bets on who he chooses.” Niall piped up excitedly.

“That’s just cruel.” Liam frowned adorably.

“Maybe I’ll throw you all for a loop and pick Niall.” I smirked, sipping on my beer.

“You’d be breaking a lot of hearts, mate.” Harry chuckled.

“Everything about this is breaking _my_ heart.” I pouted.

Two hands squeezed my knees under the table while the rest of the boys laughed and drank more beer.

It only took two rounds of pints and three shots before Niall was ready for Karaoke, but since I was significantly more sober than usual, I was a bit more hesitant.

“Pleeease?” Not-Harry begged, “You promised you’d sing!”

“I know!! That was before I wasn’t wasted!” I laughed.

“What are you singing? I’ll sing with you!” Harry exclaimed.

“Let’s all sing!” Niall exclaimed. “We can sing Spice Girls!”

“YES!” Liam shouted, pointing at him across the table.

Not-Harry groaned and leaned into my side. “Liam you’re the worst!”

“We’re doing it!” Niall exclaimed, hopping out of his seat and running to the karaoke man to sign us up.

Harry draped his arm over the back of the booth and turned to me. “So you sing--”

“Not well.” I cut him off.

“You write songs.” He continued.

“Mhmm.” I nodded.

“Do you play any instruments?” he asked with a lopsided smile.

“I play piano, a bit.” I nodded. “How bout you?”

“I’m not the songwriter.” he laughed. “I’m a Theater major!”

“You’re avoiding the question, is what you are.” I narrowed my eyes playfully.

“I’m trying to learn a bit of guitar, but I’m not good.” he grinned.

“You should talk to Nialler. He’s amazing on guitar.”

“Yeah?” he looked off across the pub with interest.

“He’d love to teach you. He loves playing with people. The only reason I’ve gotten as good as I am on piano -- which isn’t amazing, mind you -- is because he’s always wanting to play together. We end up staying up all night writing songs and singing half the time.”

“Does he sing too?” Not-Harry asked from my other side.

I turned to him and nodded around a gulp of beer. “Yeah, Niall’s great.”

“Of course I am!” Niall’s warm voice agreed as he plopped down on Not-Harry’s other side. “What are we talking about?”

“You’re a great singer.” I chuckled. “They asked if you sing, too.”

“Stop talking me up, and talk yourself up! I’m not the one trying to woo these boys!”

“Oh God.” I groaned, “Don’t start this, please, Nialler!”

“What are you talking about?” he rolled his eyes. “I’m just saying you’re a phenomenal singer, and you’re amazing on piano and getting better all the time and our fucking single is going to be mad! Quit bloody selling yourself short!”

“I’m just being honest.” I sighed.

“No, you’re being a humble little twat.” He grinned, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment as the other boys round the table rolled with laughter. “Everybody can come over to our place tonight and see for themselves. We’ll sing them all our favorite songs!”

Before I could argue, the MC called Niall’s name and he herded us up to the stage in the corner. We sang _Wannabe_ , and I almost punched Niall when he spent the first half of the song smirking at me, nudging me in the ribs. Instead, I moved to Harry’s other side and placed myself between the twins and finished out the song with both their arms draped over my shoulders. It wasn’t a bad feeling, to be honest.

“You lying little shit.” Harry grinned as we took our seats at the table after a standing ovation. “You can fucking _sing!_ ”

“You should hear him sing our songs. They’re made for his voice of course, so they’re even more amazing.” Niall chipped in as he waved down a waitress. He ordered another round of shots and pints while I buried my face in Not-Harry’s shoulder.

“Tell him to shut up!” I whined.

“No way. You’re entirely too modest.” he chuckled, giving my knee another squeeze under the table.

“I am not!”

“We’re definitely coming over to hear your songs later.” Harry added with a cheeky smirk.

“Then I’m going to need a couple of shots after all.” I sighed.

I noticed over the next two hours that both Harry and Not-Harry had slowed down on their drinking. While Liam, Zayn and Niall were still pounding shots, the three of us sat on the other half of the booth joking and laughing and sipping on beers. I’d only taken one shot the entire night, and the boys had only taken two or three each. They were both a bit drunker than I was, but nowhere near the level the other boys were quickly reaching.

“Niall is going to regret this tomorrow.” I chuckled, shaking my head at my best friend as he went to retrieve another round from the bar. “Worst time for a hangover, ever.”

“Is that why you’re taking it slow?” Harry asked. “I seem to remember you were much closer to his level last week.”

I nodded and sipped on my beer without expanding on it.

“So what’s going on tomorrow, then?” Not-Harry prodded with a warm smile.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, remember?” I grinned. “One that I’d like to experience without a pounding headache.”

“You’re totally bringing us children to play with, aren’t you?” Harry asked with bright, excited eyes.

“Maybe.” I beamed. I’m a shit liar, but I also couldn’t wait to see their faces when I introduced them to Phoebe and Daisy. I knew they’d love playing with Ernie and Doris, but the girls would be a special surprise.

“How many?” he asked, bouncing in his seat.

“Four.” I chuckled, “The oldest two have plans, but the younger lot are coming to stay with me for the day while my parents go to the theater.”

“Oh my God! I’m so excited!! Did you hear that, Kid? He’s bringing us babies!!” Harry exclaimed.

“I don’t think they’re babies, exactly.” his brother laughed, even though his eyes were alight with just as much excitement. “How old are they?”

“The youngest is two and a half, and the oldest is twelve.” I grinned. “But they’ll all be babies forever.”

There was a crash and we all looked up to see Niall sprawled on the floor with several shattered shot glasses scattered round him.

“Looks like it’s time to get out of here.” I winced.

Liam leapt to his feet and helped him up as the rest of us scooted out of the booth. I apologized to the manager and passed him a few pounds to cover the shattered glasses, before leading Niall outside.

“I’m not that smashed!” he whined, draped between Liam’s and Zayn’s shoulders. “That guy tripped me!” I followed behind, with the twins on either side and shook my head in amusement.

“Is he going to be alright?” Not-Harry asked with a concerned frown. “He’s not going to be sick or anything is he?”

“Nah, he’s Irish. He can handle himself. He probably really did get tripped, actually. I just didn’t want the manager to ban us from coming back. That’s our favorite pub.”

“We don’t have to come and hang out, you know.” Harry offered. “I know Niall invited us, but… you’re the one we’re trying to woo.” he smirked.

“No, you should come over.” I insisted, glancing between them, “I’d love to keep hanging out with you. Nialler’s got another couple of hours left in him. If you don’t come over, we’ll just spend the rest of the night playing FIFA until we pass out on the couch. Come over, if you want to.”

“Yeah?” Not-Harry asked, sharing a look with his brother.

“Definitely.” I nodded.

Niall led the way up the stairs to our flat and shoved the door open to reveal our moderately messy living room. He collapsed onto the couch and immediately picked up his guitar while I headed to the kitchen to grab a round of beers. As long as I didn’t have any shots, I could keep drinking and I wouldn’t have a hangover the next morning.

When I closed the fridge, I turned to find Harry leaning on the counter behind me, legs crossed at the ankle. “Is that a Christmas card?” he asked with a smirk, eyes glued to the card stuck to the fridge with a shamrock magnet.

“We take a photo for our Christmas card every year.” I nodded. “It started the first year we were living together in the dorms, as sort of a joke to send home to the families. Then it turned into a tradition.”

“That’s hilarious.” he grinned. “Are the deer on your jumper like… fucking?” he leaned in to squint at the card and I laughed.

“Leave it to Niall to find a gay reindeer jumper for me, yeah?”

Harry threw his head back on a laugh and accepted the bottle I offered him before following me back to the living room.

Niall was already singing _Mercy_ by Shawn Mendes and the other boys were sprawled on the couches listening intently. I passed beers to Zayn and Liam and set Niall’s on the coffee table before Harry and I dropped onto the love seat next to Not-Harry.

“Thanks.” he smiled, accepting the beer I passed him. “He’s amazing.” he added, nodding to Niall before twisting off his cap and taking a gulp.

The three of us were squished in close on the small couch and I was feeling a little warm pressed between their large bodies, but I also kind of loved it. I let myself sink back into the cushions and nodded in response. “He’s great.”

Niall came to the end of the song and his eyes met mine as he began playing the opening chords of a song we’d written our first year of uni. I chugged my entire beer as he sang the first verse before joining him for the chorus.

I could feel all the boys eyes on me as I sang in harmony with Niall but I kept my eyes locked on his blue ones as I started the second verse on my own. 

N:  
So your friend's been telling me  
You've been sleeping with my sweater  
And that you can't stop missing me  
Bet my friend's been telling you  
I'm not doing much better  
'Cause I'm missing half of me 

Both:  
And being here without you is like I'm waking up to  
Only half a blue sky  
Kinda there but not quite  
I'm walking around with just one shoe  
I'm half a heart without you  
I'm half a man at best,  
With half an arrow in my chest  
I miss everything we do,  
I'm half a heart without you 

L:  
Forget all we said that night  
No, it doesn't even matter  
'Cause we both got split in two  
If you could spare an hour or so,  
We'll go for lunch down by the river  
We can really talk it through 

Both:  
And being here without you is like I'm waking up to  
Only half a blue sky  
Kinda there but not quite  
I'm walking around with just one shoe  
I'm half a heart without you  
I'm half a man at best,  
With half an arrow in my chest  
'Cause I miss everything we do,  
I'm half a heart without you 

N:  
Half a heart without you, 

L:  
I'm half a heart without you 

N:  
Though I try to get you out of my head  
The truth is I got lost without you  
And since then I've been waking up to 

Both:  
Only half a blue sky  
Kinda there but not quite  
I'm walking around with just one shoe  
I'm half a heart without you  
I'm half a man at best,  
With half an arrow in my chest  
I miss everything we do,  
I'm half a heart without you 

L:  
Without you, without you, 

N:  
Half a heart without you 

L:  
Without you, without you, 

N:  
I'm half a heart without you 

 

The boys broke out in applause as we finished and Niall reached for his yet untouched beer. “That was one of the first songs we wrote together, first year.” he grinned.

“It’s amazing!” Not-Harry beamed.

“And now we are definitely Team Niall when it comes to your singing.” Harry added with a smirk. “You’re a great singer, Lou. Stop selling yourself short.”

I smiled shyly, and went to take a sip of my beer only to remember I’d chugged it before. “Thanks.” I chuckled, ducking my head as I put my bottle on the coffee table.

“Can we hear the one you’re recording for your project?” Liam asked Niall, probably because he knew I’d refuse.

“What d’ya say, Tommo?” Niall smirked at me.

I sighed and leaned back into the cushions again. “If Not-Harry is going to help us with the video he’s going to hear it eventually. Go for it.” I nodded.

“You’re helping us with the video?” Niall asked, grinning at Not-Harry.

“I mean, I offered.” he shrugged. “I’ve got a camera. I’d be glad to help, if you need it.”

“We need it!” he exclaimed. “We make videos all the time, but they’re absolute shit!”

“What kind of videos do you make?” he chuckled.

“Porn, mostly.” I deadpanned.

The boys all laughed and Niall shook his head, probably sick of my terrible jokes. “We’ve done a couple of awful music videos for songs we’ve written, and we’ve done a couple of stupid videos for fun or assignments. But nothing worth writing home about.” he shrugged. “We’re actually being graded on this one, though, so we would love your help if you’re seriously offering.”

“I am.” he nodded.

“We’ve got a couple ideas, but maybe after you hear the song, you could let us know what you think of them?”

“Definitely.” he nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

Niall started strumming softly and began singing. The boys sat still, eyes wide with awe as we sang this song that meant more to the two of us than any we’d written together about exes or crushes. This one was about us. Our friendship and our memories and it meant a lot to us.

 

N:  
Won’t you stay till the AM?  
All my favourite conversations,  
Always made in the AM, Yeah, yeah 

Feels like this could be forever tonight,  
Break these clocks forget about time,  
There could be World War 3,  
Going on outside,  
You and me were raised in the same part of town,  
Got these scars on the same ground  
Remember how we used to kick around  
Just wasting time? 

Both:  
Won’t you stay till the AM?  
All my favourite conversations  
Always made in the AM,  
‘Cause we don’t know what we’re saying  
We’re just swimming around in our glasses  
And talking out of our asses  
Like we’re all gonna make it, yeah yeah 

L:  
Feels like this could be forever right now,  
Don’t wanna sleep 'cause we’re dreaming out loud,  
Trying to behave but you know we never learned how, 

You and me were raised in the same part of town,  
Got these scars on the same ground,  
Remember how we used to kick around,  
Just wasting time? 

Both:  
Won’t you stay till the AM?  
All my favourite conversations,  
Always made in the AM, yeah  
'Cause we don’t know what we’re saying,  
We’re just swimming in our glasses,  
And talking out of our asses,  
Like we’re all gonna make it, yeah yeah 

N:  
You know  
I’m always going back to this place,  
You know, and I said,  
You know I’m always going to look for your face,  
You know 

L:  
Won’t you stay till the AM?  
All my favourite conversations,  
Always made in the AM 'Cause we don’t know what we’re saying, 

L(N):  
We’re just swimming around in our glasses,  
And talking out of our asses,  
Like we’re all gonna make it, yeah yeah 

Won’t you stay till the AM?  
(You know, I’m always going back to this place,) 

Won’t you stay till the AM?  
(Yeah, yeah) 

(You know I’m always going to look for your face,) 

Won’t you stay till the AM?  
(Yeah, yeah) 

 

We trailed off at the end and the boys stared in silence for a long moment before I cleared my throat and a bunch of smiles spread across their faces.

“That was great, mate.” Liam grinned. “Seriously.”

“You told me it was about your friendship, already, but... I think I underestimated you. That was… Wow.” Not-Harry sighed with a shake of his head. 

“Thanks.” I blushed, “I think it’s one of our best, so far.”

“Definitely.” Niall nodded.

“So what are you thinking of doing for the video?” Harry asked.

“We were talking about throwing a party, and kind of filming it throughout the night for kind of intro footage, and then kind of pan around at the aftermath of it, cups and empty bottles and people passed out, and then have it go to us like, hanging out on the balcony or whatever, drinking and having some chats with a couple of close mates. Some shots of us actually singing.” Niall trailed off with a shrug. “I mean, that’s really what it’s about. When the party’s kind of wound itself down, and you’re just hanging out with your real mates, talking shit and having those weird deep conversations that only happen after three am.”

“I love that idea.” Not-Harry grinned. “It’s brilliant.”

“That balcony?” Zayn asked, nodding towards the sliding glass door that led to our tiny, leaf strewn balcony.

“I mean, it’s what we’ve got.” I shrugged.

“Use ours!” he argued. “It’s massive and you could fit a handful of lads out there along with whoever’s filming.”

“We could bring over mum’s patio furniture,” Not-Harry added, turning to look at his brother over my head, “String up some cafe lights and give it that warm glow instead of using studio lighting. It’ll be kind of dark and cozy, but it’ll look sick.”

“This is why we need your help.” I grinned. “If it was up to us, we’d have four lads sitting on the ground on our dirty balcony with a selfie stick and call it good.”

“Your song is way better than that.” Harry shook his head. “Let us help you. The Kid is amazing at stuff like this.”

“That much is obvious.” Niall laughed, switching on the telly. “You’re hired.”

“Is that a Yule log?” Not-Harry frowned, “It’s September!”

“Niall has a DVD.” I laughed.

“It relaxes me!” he argued.

 

Two hours later, Niall was passed out on the loveseat and Zayn and Liam were curled up on the couch snoring quietly, while Harry, Not-Harry, and I laid on our backs on the floor and stared at the Yule log on the flat screen.

“He was right, it is relaxing.” Harry murmured, resting his head on his bent arm.

“He used to sleep with the TV on, and I couldn’t stand it, until he discovered the Yule log. It’s quiet and relaxing, so I can get behind it.” I chuckled.

“He’s a genius.” Not-Harry proclaimed sleepily.

We lay in silence for another few minutes before Not-Harry spoke up again. “I don’t want to break your heart.”

I rolled my head towards him and found him frowning over at me. “Why would you break my heart?” I asked quietly.

“Making you choose between us.” Harry supplied from my other side.

Not-Harry nodded. “I don’t want you to feel pressured, or like you have to choose between us.”

“Because really, you don’t.” Harry continued. “You don’t have to choose either of us.”

“We both like you, obviously.” Not-Harry explained, “But we’re happy just being friends with you. I don’t want you to feel like there’s a deadline for making a decision. There isn’t. If you want to be with one of us, that’s great, but… if you don’t, or if you can’t decide what you want or… whatever…”

“Then that’s fine too.” Harry finished when he trailed off. “You don’t have to make a decision. We’re fine with being friends with you.”

I dropped my hands from where they’d been resting on my stomach and felt around until I’d found a hand on either side. “That’s good to know. It means a lot, actually. I don’t know what I want… yet. I have a massive crush on each of you and I’m just kind of confused at the moment. So… thanks. For now, being friends with you both sounds amazing. And if things clear up for me, I’ll let you know.”

There were two deep hums of agreement and I gave each of their hands a gentle squeeze. The truth was, I was already halfway in love with both of them and I had no idea if I _could_ just be friends with either of them. Then again, I couldn’t imagine choosing between them either.

 

I woke up with my cheek pressed to Harry’s shoulder blade and Not-Harry’s arm draped round my waist. There were quiet voices chatting in the kitchen and I was too tired and content to move, so I just lay there pressed between two warm, solid bodies enjoying it for a few more minutes. 

That is, until I heard my name murmured in the other room.

“Louis’ not that shallow though.” Niall murmured. “I mean, I know Harry would probably be the more obvious choice for some guys, but I don’t see him choosing him in the end.”

“People are drawn to him.” Liam argued quietly. “I’ve never been able to explain it. I love him, but I just don’t get it. People flock to him like he’s Jesus. Not-Harry is just too shy. People tend to overlook him in favor of Harry.”

“Lou hasn’t though.” Zayn pointed out. “We’ve seen that happen, yeah, but this time seems different. I think he might actually choose Not-Harry. I think he likes that whole shy thing. It’s endearing to some guys.”

“You don’t know him like I do.” Niall continued. “He’s not into people because they dress flashy or have incredible dimples. I’ve seen him turn down guys with notoriously huge pricks just because he didn’t feel a connection.”

I felt a small snort behind me and knew Not-Harry was eavesdropping too.

“If he was only looking for a one night stand, I think Harry would be the obvious choice because let’s face it, that dude probably gets freaky in the sack, but for a real relationship? Not-Harry seems like a safer choice. Harry seems a bit more… fickle.”

A small scoff from in front of me alerted me to Harry’s awake state as well and I let out a small breathy chuckle.

“He’s adventurous, I’ll admit,” Liam conceded, “But if he really likes someone, he’s not afraid to show it. He’s not afraid of commitment, he’s just picky. He doesn’t date casually. He sleeps casually, but he won’t date someone unless he’s serious. I think he’s serious about Louis.”

“But Not-Harry is all or nothing.” Zayn pointed out. “He’s so afraid of getting hurt after everything that happened with Nick that he hasn’t dated anyone in ages. But he likes Louis. He’s ready to start dating again.”

“That doesn’t mean Louis will choose him.” Liam pointed out. “You know he hasn’t shared that story with him. The only reason we know it is because he got drunk on St. Patrick’s day and spilled his guts. _He_ might be ready, but that doesn’t mean Louis will choose him.”

“Alright, alright,” Niall cut their argument off before it could go even further down that rabbit hole and reeled them back in. “A hundred quid each, winner takes all. I’m betting that he might hook up with Harry, but he’ll settle down with Not-Harry in the long run.”

“I’m saying he’ll choose Harry, flat out.” Liam sounded confident.

“Not-Harry, definitely.” Zayn disagreed.

“I can’t believe they’re still calling you Not-Harry, even when they think I’m asleep.” I whispered.

“I can’t believe our best friends are betting against us.” Harry whispered back.

“I can.” Not-Harry chuckled against the nape of my neck. “They’re twats, the lot of them.”

“So little faith in all of us.” I shook my head.

Harry rolled over to face me, and Not-Harry leaned up on one elbow, resting his chin on my shoulder. “What we said last night still stands.” he reminded me. “You don’t have to choose between us.”

I reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. “I know. I appreciate it.” I whispered.

Harry’s big hand spread on my belly and I turned to him. “We just like spending time with you. We’ll take what we can get.”

“Me too.” I grinned.

We lay in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before my phone vibrated in my pocket.

 

_Mum: We’re heading out. See you in a bit! XX_

_Me: Drive safe! X_

 

“How far are they?” Harry asked.

“Donny. They’ll be a few hours.”

“We should probably go home and change before we meet them.” Not-Harry sighed. “We probably smell like a pub.”

“My, erm… My mum wants to meet you. Is that weird?”

Harry grinned and shared a look with his brother before shaking his head. “No, that’s not weird. We’d love to meet her. What time should we be back?”

I checked the time on my phone, “They’ll be here around noon, wanna stop by around then? I don’t know how long my parents plan on staying, if they’ve got a free babysitter, they’ll probably take advantage. I keep spare toothbrushes for all the kids because every time they come for the day they end up staying the night.”

“Noon sounds perfect.” Not-Harry nodded against my shoulder.

Niall, Liam and Zayn emerged from the kitchen with mugs of tea as we were getting up and after a shared look of apprehension Niall offered the kettle.

“We’re going to head out, actually.” Harry shook his head. “We’ll be back to meet the family at noon though.”

“God help us all.” Niall laughed. “It’s a good thing those kids are so cute, because they’re a handful.”

“With these two, you’ll probably be off the hook for Uncle duties today.” I laughed.

“No way, I’m Ernie’s favorite!” he scoffed.

“We should probably head out too.” Liam sighed. “I smell like beer and cigarettes. I need a shower.”

Zayn nodded and set his mug on the counter. “Let us know when you want to come shoot that video. Any time you want.”

“Will do.” I nodded, “Thanks.”

We shared hugs all around before everybody took off, and I opened the window to clear out the smell of beer a bit before my mum arrived.

 

The girls arrived with packs full of clothes slung over their backs, and mum dropped a small duffle of her own on the couch.

“Moving in?” I asked with a smirk before pulling her in for a kiss.

“Kids are messy.” she shrugged. “In case they need a change of clothes.”

“Why don’t you guys just get a room tonight?” I smirked. “Treat yourselves. I’ll look after the kids for the night.”

“Really?” she beamed, “You’d do that?”

I rolled my eyes, as if there was any question. Or as if she hadn’t been planning it all along.

“That would be great, Lou, thanks.” Dan grinned.

“I’d love to have them.” I nodded. “And I’m sure Niall would love it too.”

“Of course I would!” he growled, lifting Ernie over his head and flipping him upside down.

“Ni, take him to the toilet before you make him wee himself like last time.” I sighed, shaking my head at him as he took off down the hall with a giggling toddler in his arms.

“I need a loo, too.” Daisy whispered, tugging on my arm.

“You can use the one in my room.” I nodded towards the door on my side of the flat. “Drop your bags off in my room while you’re at it.”

Phoebe was already sprawled on the couch scrolling through Instagram on her phone, and Mum and Dan joined her while I bent to pick up Doris. “Good morning, love! How are you?” I asked, tickling her little belly.

Doris giggled and buried her face in my neck.

“Want some juice? I’ve got apple and grape.”

“Yeah!” she nodded.

I carried her into the kitchen and set her on the edge of the counter while I poured two plastic cups of apple juice. “Can you hold that without spilling?” I asked, handing her one.

When she nodded I scooped her up and carried her and the other cup of juice back to the living room, just as a knock sounded on the door.

“That’s probably them.” I told my mum, setting Ernie’s juice on the coffee table and helping Doris to do the same with hers before taking her with me to answer the door.

Harry squealed adorably as I opened the door, and his brother elbowed him in the ribs. “Hi.” Not-Harry grinned, beaming just as brightly at Doris.

“Hello!” I grinned. “Come in! This is Doris. Love, can you say hi to my friends? This is Harry and Not-Harry.”

“Hi.” she smiled shyly, clinging to my neck.

“And these are my parents,” I continued, leading them into the living room, “My mum, Jay and my step-dad, Dan. And my sister, Phoebe.”

There were a few polite greetings around the room before Niall skipped down the hall with Ernie in his arms. “All better!” he announced loudly. “Now we can laugh all we want without weeing ourselves!”

“Congratulations.” Dan smirked from the couch.

“Harry! Not-Harry!” Niall exclaimed, “Meet Ernie!”

Not-Harry turned to me with an arched eyebrow. “Twins?” he asked.

“Yep.” I nodded with a smile.

“How come you didn’t tell us?” Harry laughed.

I opened my mouth to respond when Daisy emerged from my bedroom. “Lou, you’re out of hand ssss--” she froze when she spotted the boys and her eyes went wide for a moment before she recovered. “Soap. Hand soap. You’re out.”

“Thanks.” I chuckled. “This is Daisy. Dais, this is Harry, and Not-Harry.”

“I’m Not Phoebe.” she smirked. “But Daisy is easier.”

I turned to find both boys staring wide-eyed back and forth between all my siblings before they turned to me in unison. “Two sets of twins.” Not-Harry deadpanned.

“You have two sets of twins in your family and you didn’t tell us?” Harry demanded.

“Surprise?” I grinned. “You said you needed more twins for your project, right?”

The boys turned to each other with jaws on the floor as if that thought hadn’t even crossed their minds. Harry spun on his heel and faced my parents with a dazzling, dimpled smile. “Really? You’d let us photograph them for our project?”

My mum grinned and nodded. “The girls have agreed to it. They’re very excited, and we’ve talked about it. If you’d like to use them, you have our permission.”

“And Ernie and Doris?” Not-Harry asked. “Can we use them?”

“I mean… they’re not identical.” Mum chuckled. “Obviously.”

“They’re twins.” Harry shrugged. “We’d love to photograph them for it if you’d let us!”

My parents exchanged a look before nodding and the boys lunged at me, hugging me and Doris tight. “You’re amazing.” Harry breathed in my ear.

“Incredible.” his brother agreed.

“I aim to please.” I laughed.

 

It was surreal seeing the boys in this new light. My mum made lunch for everyone before she and Dan left, and both boys had spent the majority of the meal talking with the kids. What were their likes and dislikes? Favorite colors and seasons and hobbies. They asked about school and their favorite subjects, their best friends, literally everything you could imagine. By the end of lunch, they knew everything there was to know about the girls and everything they could possibly get out of Doris and and Ernie.

They were great with kids, which didn’t surprise me. They were playful and patient and warm. I found myself picturing them playing with blocks and Barbies on my mum’s living room floor with all my sisters gathered round smiling and flirting.

“Lou, honey, help me with the dishes?” My mum’s voice broke into my haze and I nodded, following her into the kitchen, leaving everybody in the living room with the kids.

“So which one are you dating?” she asked quietly as she turned on the water and began scrubbing macaroni off the first plate.

“Neither.” I chuckled.

“So which one do you _want_ to date, then?” she pressed.

I narrowed my eyes at my perfect little mum as she handed me a plate to dry and shrugged. “What makes you think I want to date them?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Please. You look at those boys like they hung the stars.”

"Sometimes I think they did." I chuckled softly.

"So?" She pressed, "Which one do you like?"

"Guess." I smirked. While a big part of me didn't want to admit to my mother that I'd slept between them last night, another part of me wondered if she might be able to shed some light. Give an outsider perspective on the matter.

"Honestly? I've been trying to figure it out since they walked in the door. They're both just the most darling boys. They're sweet and they're great with the kids. They all seem to love them. They're both so sweet. And you look at them both like they’re this precious gift."

"They are." I shrugged.

"You're really not going to tell me which one you like?" She pouted.

"Honestly, Mum, at this point, we're all just hanging out. Having fun. We're just friends."

That last statement sounded weird on my lips. I didn't feel like I was _just_ friends with either one of them. In all honesty, I quite wanted to snog both of them. But that wasn't something I was about to tell my mother.

"Oh, Louis..." she sighed, drying her hands on a dish towel. "Please don't get yourself tied up in a love triangle. Nothing good can come of it. Someone always gets hurt. And they're brothers. You don't want to be the one who comes between them."

"I'm not in a love triangle, Mum. I don't think. I'm not, like, hooking up with either of them. We really are just friends. I promise."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press any further. "Just be careful." She pled. "I don't want to see you hurt. And I don't want you to be the reason either of them gets hurt."

"I don't want that, either." I sighed.

 

Once my parents left, we set off for Zayn and Liam's flat to surprise them with their new cast of models. Zayn’s face when he opened the door to reveal three sets of twins in the flesh was everything I could've hoped for.

"You had a house full of twins and you never told us?" He exclaimed, pulling me into a rough hug and planting a loud smooch on my cheek.

"I only waited long enough to run it past me mum." I shrugged. "'Can I let some boys I just met take photos of your children?' is a question best asked in person, I felt."

"Fair point." He grinned. "So then, what's the plan?” He turned to Not-Harry who was holding Doris. "Can we start shooting today?"

"Definitely." He nodded. "We can head over to our house and do it in my mum's office like we did ours."

"I only have them for the night, but the girls have brought a couple of matching outfits, and they've kind of talked about what they want to do. And the boys have spoken with them too. It sounded like an interview, so I'm sure they've got some ideas. I don't know. This is your show, I just supply twins." I laughed.

"We were thinking, now that we've got three sets, we could do some together as well. A couple of group shots. Especially with the age and height gaps, we thought it could look really great."

Zayn rubbed his hands together and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think this could be sick."

 

It turned out the boys lived just a short walk from campus and we made it there quickly, especially considering we were in possession of a couple of toddlers. The driveway was empty when we arrived and Not-Harry led the way through the immaculate house to a fairly large room with a wall of windows.

Along one wall was a desk with an iMac on it and a tall bookshelf, and against the other, sat an emerald green, velvet loveseat with a small side table on either side.

"Is this so the two of you can come annoy your mum while she works?" I smirked.

"Of course." Harry grinned.

"She loves it.” Not-Harry smirked. “H?" he added to his brother before they both left the room.

When they returned a moment later, Not-Harry had a camera bag slung across his shoulder and Harry carried a large rectangular duffle-type bag.

"There's a toilet across the hall if you girls want to start getting changed into your outfits." Harry offered as he unzipped the duffle.

"What should we wear?" Daisy asked. "We just brought a couple of simple matching things and also one bit nicer outfit each."

"Let's start with the simple ones first, and we'll go from there." Not-Harry suggested.

The girls nodded and hurried off to change while I turned to the boys who seemed to be setting up a backdrop. "Can I help with anything?"

"Nah," Harry shook his head. "We've got it under control."

"They've got this down to a science." Liam laughed. "They can literally get set up, torn down and have this room back to normal in less than ten minutes. Just stay out of the way or you risk getting run over."

Harry smirked over his shoulder as I herded the kids off to the side and let them climb onto the loveseat against the wall. It turned out Liam was right, by the time the girls returned from the toilet, Not-Harry was just clipping his camera onto a tripod in front of the white backdrop and Harry was pulling a set of black-out curtains closed over the windows. They had studio lighting setup and everything!

"Wow." Phoebe smirked. "Impressive."

"You girls look gorgeous." Harry grinned.

They were both in black skinny jeans and simple white tops and they each wore a pair of black Vans.

"Is this okay?" Daisy asked, tugging on the bottom of her top.

"Perfect." He nodded in return.

After some discussion, they decided to shoot each of the girls separately before having them pose together for a few more. I hadn't seen any of the shots of the boys, except the one Zayn was currently working on, but apparently that's what they'd done.

The kids and I watched as first Daisy, then Phoebe got in front of the camera and posed like the professional instagrammers they were. Then they got together and did a few classic twin poses. Back to back, side by side, holding hands, in profile. Everything we could think of.

While they did that, Harry helped me get Ernie and Doris changed into matching outfits. While they didn’t have exactly matching ones, Mum had happened to pack Ernie a white t-shirt and Doris a white dress, so we made it work.

“Doris tends to be camera shy, though.” I mentioned as I tied her little pink Converse for her.

“Will she take photos with you?” Harry asked.

“I’m not going to be in them!” I exclaimed on a laugh.

“Not the ones being painted, no.” he chuckled, “But we can crop you out. If she’ll be more comfortable with you it’s worth the extra photoshop time.”

I sighed and shrugged. “I might be able to work it out. The girls can help, too.”

“What about you, huh?” he asked, tickling Ernie’s tummy. “Wanna take some pictures?”

Ernie bounced excitedly on the couch and I grinned.

“Why don’t we start out with something a bit playful?” Not-Harry suggested, still snapping away at the girls. “We could do a few group shots with them stood on stools.”

“Good idea.” Harry nodded. “I’ll go get them.”

“You need some help?” I offered.

He paused halfway to the door and smiled. “Sure.”

“Be good while I’m gone, okay?” I reminded the kids before following Harry from the room. “Your house is gorgeous.” I commented as I followed him through the living room.

“Thank you.” he smiled. “My mum is all about textures, so she likes having lots of throw pillows and knitted blankets all over.”

I noticed the furry white pillows on the couch and chuckled. “It works. It looks elegant and cozy and the same time.”

“She would love to hear you say that.” he laughed.

We wound through the kitchen before we reached a door at the far end and Harry led the way through, turning on a light as we went. Just as we stepped into the cool room, though, the garage door began to lift.

“Mum must be home.” he noted as he moved to the corner where two metal stools were slid under the workbench.

Sure enough, a silver Mercedes pulled into the open space in the garage just a moment later and a beautiful woman slid out of the driver’s seat.

“Hey, Mum.” Harry greeted her absently as he set a stool beside me. “This is Louis. We’re taking photos. We’ve taken over your office for the afternoon.”

“Hi, Louis.” she smiled, showing off a set of familiar dimples. “I’ve heard an awful lot about you.”

“Mum!” Harry groaned. “Play it cool, will you?”

I threw my head back in laughter and his mum poked him in the ribs as she passed him before stopping in front of me. “I’m Anne.” she smirked. “Remember, I have all his naked baby photos if he doesn’t behave himself.”

“Noted.” I grinned.

“You’re the worst.” Harry pouted.

Anne rolled her eyes and hitched her handbag up higher on her shoulder. “What are you boys shooting?”

“You will never believe who Louis introduced us to this morning.” Harry beamed. “Come see!”

I laughed and picked up the stool Harry had brought over and lead the way back through the house to Anne’s office.

Zayn was leaned against the door jam when we returned and he smiled and moved out of the way as we filed in.

“They’re behaving alright?” I asked Liam who was playing with the kids on the couch.

“They’re angels.” he nodded.

I shook my head at his assessment, but I couldn’t deny they wormed their way into hearts everywhere. A soft gasp behind me brought my attention back to the door and Anne had both hands pressed to her chest while she stared at my sisters who stood under the lights with their arms round each other’s shoulders.

“Hey mum, this is Daisy and Phoebe.” Not-Harry smiled, pointing out the correct twins as he made the introductions. “Apparently Louis has been hiding twins from us for weeks.”

“And this here,” Harry announced loudly, scooping Doris up off the couch beside me, “Is Doris, and her brother Ernie!”

Anne turned wide eyes on me and I shrugged. “My mum loves kids.”

“He’s got _two_ more sisters at home, too!” Harry beamed.

“Wait, they’re not twins as well, are they?” Not-Harry suddenly asked, turning to me with wide eyes.

The girls and I burst into laughter and I shook my head. “Nah, just the two sets.”

“ _Just_ the two.” Harry scoffed.

“How old are the others?” Anne asked, ignoring him.

“Lottie is eighteen and Fizzy is sixteen.” I smiled.

“And you girls?” she asked the girls.

“We’re twelve,” Phoebe answered, “And the kids are two and a half.”

“What do you think, ready to add the kids?” Not-Harry asked cheerfully.

“I’ll get out of your hair.” Anne smiled, backing towards the door. “Should I assume everyone is staying for dinner?”

I opened my mouth to refuse, but Harry cut me off, throwing an arm round my shoulders. “Stay?”

“I’ve got four kids.” I sighed, smiling softly at him. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Not imposing. Stay? Please?”

I turned to Anne who grinned. “We’d love to have you.”

“Fine.” I sighed. “We’ll stay. Thank you, Anne.”

She shot me a wink before leaving us to our photoshoot.

“You wanna do some group shots of all of us?” Harry asked his brother as he moved one of the stools over in front of the camera.

“Yeah, it might make the little ones more comfortable.” he nodded before turning to me. “You wanna be the trigger man for me?”

“Trigger man?” I frowned.

“Come here.” He chuckled, pulling me over. “All you have to do is press the shutter. Everything is set up perfectly, just make sure we’re all in the frame and shoot away.”

He gave me a nudge in the ribs and I reached for the camera, looking through the view-finder. Harry was setting up the second stool and the girls were standing on either side of him.

“Say Cheese!” I exclaimed, pressing the shutter and capturing three silly faces.

“Prefect.” Not-Harry beamed. “You’re a natural.”

“A natural button pusher? My mum would probably agree with that.” I laughed.

Not-Harry vanished from the room for a minute, and when he returned he was wearing a white t-shirt just like Harry’s and his hair was pulled down out of its usual bun. He turned to the kids who were still climbing all over Liam and Zayn on the couch. “You guys wanna take some pictures with us?” he asked excitedly.

Surprisingly, both kids leapt off the couch and allowed him to lead them over to the others. He and Harry lifted the kids up and stood them on the stools, standing behind them and keeping a hand on their backs while the girls closed in on either end.

“Alright, I’m not a pose expert, you just do stuff and I’ll take pictures.” I instructed awkwardly.

Zayn stepped up beside me as I began shooting and before long he was calling out suggestions like a true professional.

“Daisy, turn your shoulders this way a bit. Haz, drop your chin. Phoebe, take a half step to your left.” I immediately saw what he was doing and snapped away whenever they were positioned more or less symmetrically.

I watched the way Doris and Ernie laughed and smiled when the boys spoke to them and tickled them, and I knew that while they were having fun now, their good moods wouldn’t last much longer. I glanced at the time on the clock on Anne’s bookshelf and sighed. It was getting dangerously close to naptime.

I paused and waved Not-Harry over. “The kids are in a great mood, but I don’t want to lose it.” I muttered, quietly enough that they wouldn’t hear. “It’s getting close to naptime, they’re going to get cranky pretty soon here. Wanna try and get a few shots of them before things go downhill?”

He nodded. “How do you want to do it?”

I nodded at Harry who had an arm round each of them, keeping them steady on their stools while he dangled his long hair in their faces, making them laugh. “They love you two, and they seem to be responding really well to you. What if we had the two of you squat down in front and talk to them and we can crop you out later? Does it work like that?”

Not-Harry chuckled, showing off those dimples, and nodded. “Yeah, it works like that. Let me do a little bit of adjusting, and then we can give it a try.” He stepped forward and looked through the viewfinder and adjusted the lens a bit before snapping one photo and checking it. “Alright. We’re golden. It’s on burst, so it’ll take a few shots in a row, okay?”

“Got it.” I nodded. “Daisy, Phoebe, stick close on the sides in case they take a tumble, yeah?” I asked.

The girls nodded and got in position just out of frame while Harry and Not-Harry crouched on the floor in front of my youngest siblings.

“You know how to play Simon Says?” Not-Harry asked.

“Yeah!” Ernie cheered.

“Alright, Simon says… Hands on your head!” He put his hands on his head and the kids (and Harry) followed suit. I snapped a burst and when he heard the shutter silence, he continued. “Simon says, cupcake face!” He dropped his hands under his chin and tilted his head, and I knew he had a wide dimpled grin even before the twins copied him. “Simon says, Hands on hips!” And so it continued, with both boys shouting out Simon Says instructions that happened to make adorable poses.

“Simon says, fish face!”

“Simon says, big smile!”

“Simon says, hands on knees!”

“Simon says, arms up!”

“Simon says, cover your eyes!”

“Simon says, arms crossed!”

When I could see the kids beginning to fade and lose interest in the game, I put all my faith in those two boys on the floor and shouted out my own Simon Says, finger poised on the shutter. “Simon says, jump!”

There were a couple of panicked squeaks, but the boys caught my leaping siblings without incident and I got a burst of action shots with beaming baby faces that made any anxiety I may have caused them totally worth it.

 

“Achoo, can I have juice?” Doris asked around a yawn.

“What kind do you like?” Harry asked her.

“Do you have apple?” I asked.

“Of course! It’s my favorite!” he beamed. “Do you want some juice too, Ernie?”

Ernie nodded, and added a please when I reminded him and we followed Harry out to the kitchen.

“I think we’re going to head on home.” Zayn announced as we reached the living room. “I’ve got a couple of other projects I need to work on, and Liam’s got a test Monday morning that he needs to study for.”

“You’re not going to stay for dinner?” Anne asked from the couch.

“Not tonight,” Liam smiled, “Thank you for the invitation, though!”

Doris’ arm wrapped around my thigh just above my knee and I looked down just in time to watch her droop against me. “You getting tired, love?” I asked, scooping her up and propping her on my hip.

“No.” she shook her head slowly before dropping it on my shoulder.

I chuckled softly and ventured further into the kitchen. “Let’s get you some juice, yeah?”

Harry lifted Ernie up and set him on the edge of the island and I noticed his eyelids were beginning to droop as well. “They’re going to crash pretty soon.” I murmured, stepping up beside Harry.

“We can put them in my bed once they’re out.” he nodded.

Not-Harry passed us each a cup of apple juice before asking the girls if they’d like something to drink. When I tried to give Doris her cup though, she didn’t stir.

“Is she asleep?” I whispered to Harry.

He tipped his head to the side and smiled. “Yeah.” he answered softly.

I downed the apple juice myself and set the cup on the island before wrapping both arms more securely around my sister. I swayed my hips slowly and watched as Ernest finished his juice.

He handed Harry his cup when he finished and Harry set it aside with a warm smile.

“Can you say thank you?” I prodded.

“Thank you…” he yawned.

“I’m going to lay Doris down for a nap.” I told him, “Do you want to come lay with us so she doesn’t get scared?”

He nodded slowly, let Harry pick him up and we wandered back down the hallway together. Harry pushed a door open on the left side of the hall and I followed him into a bedroom decorated with colorful art prints and Rolling Stones posters and he pulled back the green comforter on the bed before gently setting Ernie down.

Ernie was fighting to keep his eyes open, but it was a losing battle. I watched him lie down and roll onto his side and tuck his hand under his cheek as I laid Doris down beside him and chuckled softly.

“How long do they usually sleep for?” Harry whispered behind me.

I turned to find him bending over his Macbook on the desk across from the bed. “About an hour, hour and a half, maybe.” I shrugged.

He stood up and held out his iPhone to me. “There. We don’t have like, a baby monitor, but you can Facetime them. I muted it on the computer so we don’t wake them.”

I looked down at the phone and saw the two of us standing in front of his bed where the twins were sprawled. Then I looked back up into Harry’s light green eyes. “Thank you. That was… thoughtful.”

He gave me a small, almost shy smile and shrugged. “Should we get back out there?” he asked quietly.

I pressed my lips together and nodded, but neither of us moved. We just stood there staring into each other’s eyes for a long, heavy moment before Daisy’s voice floated down the hall, breaking the spell.

Harry nodded towards the door and I lead the way out to the hall where we met Not-Harry and the girls.

“You wanna keep shooting?” Not-Harry asked.

Harry nodded and we all headed back to the office/photo studio.

 

“Thanks for having us.” I smiled as Anne pulled me in for a hug.

“Oh, shush, you’re welcome anytime.” she grinned.

She hugged all the kids goodbye too before we all headed out into the fading evening light.  
“You didn’t have to walk us home.” I told the boys for probably the fifth time.

“We’re gentlemen!” Harry exclaimed. “Stop complaining!”

I tossed my head back and laughed, watching my sisters lead the kids down the sidewalk up ahead. “Thanks for doing all this today.” I added more seriously. “The girls really had fun. And the kids enjoyed hanging out with you too, I think.”

“Are you kidding?” Not-Harry scoffed. “We’re the ones that should be thanking you! _I’m_ the one who should be thanking you. You single-handedly just _made_ my project. This gallery show is going to be amazing, and it’s all thanks to you and your saint of a mother who happens to make gorgeous children.”

I rolled my eyes and bumped my shoulder into his, pretending all the while that I wasn’t blushing. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a huge deal.” Harry countered. “And it means a lot to us both. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I chuckled awkwardly.

We walked in silence for about half a block before Harry spoke up. “What are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

I shrugged. “Just hanging out, I guess. The kids will probably make me sit through half a dozen Disney movies before they pass out. You boys can stay and join if you like.”

I glanced between them and found them both giving me warm dimpled smiles. “Are you sure?” Not-Harry asked. “We wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You won’t be imposing.” I shook my head. “But don’t agree just to be polite. I’m not kidding about the Disney movies.”

“If you’re trying to convince us to stay, it’s working.” Harry smirked.

 

By eleven o’clock, all the kids were asleep on air mattresses on the living room floor, Niall was locked in his room working on an English paper, and the boys and I were leaning against the kitchen counter talking quietly and sipping beers. They had sung along to every song in Pocahontas and Beauty and the Beast and had survived a toddler tantrum without running for the hills. I figured they’d earned the beers.

“So our next project is your video.” Not-Harry smiled. “When do you want to work on that?”

I shrugged as I swallowed a mouthful of beer. “I mean, how do we want to do it?”

“What if we threw an actual party in Zayn and Liam’s flat?” Harry asked. “We could film some of it and use clips for the party scenes, walk through the aftermath of course. And then we can film you and your friends on the patio on another night.”

“Do you have friends you wanted to include?” Not-Harry asked. “You can see when you can get everybody together for the patio shots?”

I quirked an eyebrow at him and laughed. “You guys don’t want to be in it?”

The boys shared a look then shrugged. “Of course we’ll be in it, if you want us to.” Harry nodded.

“Of course I want you to!” I poked him in the ribs and he let out an adorable squeak, batting my hand away. “Liam and Zayn too?”

“They’ll definitely be in it.” Not-Harry nodded.

“We didn’t actually plan on using their home and your services without including you in the video, you know.” I grinned.

Not-Harry ducked his head and smiled bashfully, looking up at me through long lashes. “We didn’t want to assume anything.”

“Assume away.” I chuckled. “How many does that make, six? Do you think that’s enough, or should we bring in a few more?”

“I think that’s good.” he shrugged. “I mean, it’s your video, so if there’s anyone else you’d like to invite, that’s your call. But, like, the song is pretty intimate. I think keeping it small for that patio scene would really make it great.”

“I agree.” I grinned. “So when should we do all this?”

“We could throw a party Friday night.” Harry suggested. “We all go out to pubs most Friday nights anyway, we could invite a bunch of people over instead.”

“And we could do the patio scene the next night.” Not-Harry agreed before turning back to me. “If that works for you guys, that is.”

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll talk to Niall, but I’m sure that’s fine. He hasn’t mentioned any plans, and he’s always down for a party.”

“This is going to be so fun.” Harry beamed.

“Wait,” I frowned, turning to his brother. “How are you going to be in it if you’re filming?”

He shrugged. “We’ll work it out. Harry can help me get shots during the party so both of us are in, and then maybe Gemma can come help film the patio scene. If I set up the shots, all she has to do is pull the trigger.”

“You think she’d help out?”

“Of course.” Harry nodded. “She’s very supportive of our projects.”

“And your friends’ projects?” I asked skeptically.

“If they’re important enough friends.” Not-Harry smiled shyly.

I hid my smile behind a gulp of beer and cleared my throat once I’d swallowed it down. “Then, yeah, sure. If she’d like to help, that would be amazing. We’ll provide alcohol.”

“Then she’ll definitely be there.” Harry giggled.

I finished off my beer and set it aside before running both hands over my face. It had been a long day with the kids and the photoshooting and all. It was starting to catch up with me, but I didn’t want to say goodbye.

“We should probably get going.” Not-Harry sighed, setting his empty bottle beside mine. “It’s getting pretty late.”

I gave him a pouty face and caught the hem of his t-shirt as he moved away, pulling him into a hug. “Thank you for today. I had so much fun.”

His big arms squeezed me tight and he hummed against my ear. “Thank you. I had fun too. With the kids, and with you.” he pressed a kiss to my temple as he pulled away and my cheeks burned.

“Yeah, thanks for bringing us the kids to play with.” Harry grinned. “They’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing.” I chuckled, pulling him in for a hug next. I pressed my face into his solid chest and inhaled softly. “I wish you guys could stay over again, but the kids…” I trailed off with an apologetic shrug as we separated.

“Don’t worry.” he smiled, pushing my fringe off my forehead. “There’s plenty of time for sleepovers another night.”

“Stop it,” I groaned quietly, dropping my forehead to his collar bone. “You’re making me want more than I deserve.”

“You deserve everything.” Not-Harry whispered as he weaved his fingers into my hair, scratching softly at my scalp.

“Not you.” I sighed, rolling my head to meet his warm gaze. “And not you.” I added lifting my head to look up at Harry.

“You deserve everything.” he insisted, repeating his brothers words with just as much conviction.

I didn’t realize how close we were all standing until Not-Harry’s arm dropped to loop around my waist. Harry’s hand on my hip suddenly felt warmer and the mixture of all our breath mingling in the middle had me feeling lightheaded.

A soft pair of lips teased my right earlobe while a nose nudged my jaw on the left. Harry trailed kisses along my jaw to my neck before sucking a spot just below my ear. I gasped and Not-Harry responded my pulling my earlobe into his mouth on the other side.

My hands fisted in two different t-shirts and my head dropped back on a sigh.

“I want to kiss you.” Harry’s deep voice rumbled in my ear.

Not-Harry hummed nudging his nose against my neck as his brother drew back to search my eyes. He must’ve found what he was looking for, because the next moment his soft, full lips were on mine, teasing mine open before his tongue swiped in to dance with mine. Not-Harry sucked a spot just above my collarbone and I whimpered into Harry’s mouth.

His lips curved into a smile against mine and he moved back to my neck, just as his brother detached and met my wide eyes with dark, lust-filled ones of his own. He leaned in and caught my lower lip gently between his teeth, sucking on it for a moment before kissing me fully. It was more aggressive than I would have expected out of the shy, blushing boy, and it made me moan against his expert lips.

Harry huffed a quiet laugh against my neck and sucked my earlobe into his mouth.

My body was shaking, my hands twisted in the fronts of both their shirts, and my breaths were beginning to come in small pants. It was sensory overload in the most beautiful way, and I didn’t know how to handle it. Before I could make a decision -- before I could drag them back to my room and beg them to stay with me, kids and consequences be damned -- everything stopped. Not-Harry broke our kiss, Harry released my earlobe with a soft, wet _pop!_ And they both took half a step back. Not enough for me to lose the warmth of their firm bodies and not far enough that their arms dropped from my waist, but far enough that I could finally take a gasping breath and focus my eyes.

“We should get going.” Not-Harry smiled softly, breaking my heart with those words for the second time in ten minutes.

“Have fun with the kids tomorrow, yeah?” Harry added with a matching dimpled smile.

I nodded, unable to form any coherent words and the next thing I knew, my warm cocoon of Styles men was gone and we were walking towards the front door.

I held it open for them and pretended everything was normal -- just another day in the life of Louis Tomlinson -- as they each gave me a chaste kiss on the lips and waved goodbye.

I stumbled to bed and buried my face in my pillow, replaying the events of the past fifteen minutes. 

_“We’re not having a threesome with you.”_

It had taken Harry less than five minutes to make that declaration the first time I saw them together, and it had taken less than a week before they had me sandwiched between them kissing me breathless.

Was this a test? Had I just failed because I’d let them do it? Were they testing me to see if I’d try and get a threesome out of them, even after being told it wouldn’t happen? Or were they just raising the stakes a bit? Each showing me what I _could_ have and hoping it would help me make a decision?

I wasn’t living a porno. Threesomes -- especially with gorgeous identical twins -- don’t just fall into your lap like this. Not in real life. I knew it wasn’t going to happen.

But then what were they playing at?


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up late Monday morning and stumbled into class just as the professor was starting her lecture. With an apologetic wave, I hurried to my seat at the back and slid in next to Not-Harry.

“Morning.” I mumbled.

“Morning.” I could hear the smile in his voice and it made a warmth spread from my chest. And when a cup of tea was set in front of me, that warmth multiplied by at least seven.

I turned to smile at him, and found Harry in his place. He was wearing a black hoodie, and his hair was tied up in a bun, but it was definitely Harry. “What are you doing here?” I frowned.

“You’re welcome.” he rolled his eyes playfully.

I chuckled and picked up my cup, sipping from it eagerly. “Thank you, really. I needed this today.”

“From what I hear, you need it every day.”

I shrugged. It was true. “So? What was this, a test?”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, you haven’t mixed us up once since you found out there is two of us. The Kid woke up with a migraine this morning, so I came to take notes for him.”

“How nice of you.” I chuckled.

A throat cleared and I turned to find my professor frowning at me as she kept explaining whatever was projected on the screen at the moment. _Sorry._ I mouthed.

I didn’t last more than five minutes without leaning over and resting my head on Harry’s shoulder. He nudged my temple with his nose before leaning his head on top of mine the way his brother normally did.

“You’re cuddly when you’re tired.” he murmured softly.

I looped my arm through his -- completely done pretending to take notes -- and nodded against his shoulder.

Harry picked up a pen and scribbled something on his paper before rotating it to show me.

_I liked kissing you._

My cheeks warmed and I gave his bicep a squeeze before taking his pen and scribbling a reply.

_Mr. Don’t Even Think About a Threesome nearly instigated one with my little sisters in the next room!_

Harry’s chest shook with silent laughter and he plucked the pen out of my hand.

_Wouldn’t have let it go that far._

_Couldn’t have stopped you if I tried._

We lapsed into silence -- both physically and via pen and paper -- and I lost myself in more of the same thoughts that had plagued my mind over the weekend. What did all of it mean? What were they playing at? If they weren’t the sweetest boys on the planet, I might worry I’d fallen victim to a game of cat and mouse.

When Harry’s hand slid into mine -- his fingers threading between mine, fitting so perfectly my stomach fluttered with butterflies -- I knew that whatever their intentions, whatever had changed since Saturday night, these boys were not planning on hurting me. I didn’t know what their plan was and I didn’t know how I’d ever choose between them, but I knew that they were both beautiful, genuine people who deserved the world, and who for some reason thought the world of me.

 

When class ended, Harry followed me outside and we stopped in a sunny spot against the brick wall. “What are you doing today?” he asked, reaching out to fiddle with my fingers.

I have another class at three, but no plans until then. I usually just hang out at home with Niall.”

He squinted at me through the sun and his dimples appeared. “Would you consider hanging out at my home with me, today? You could help me cheer up the Kid.”

“I don’t want to bother him if he’s got a migraine.” I frowned. “I’ve gotten them before. They’re the worst.”

“He gets them sometimes, but cuddles always make him feel better. What do ya say? I know he’d love to see you.”

I wasn’t sure what his motives were, exactly, but I couldn’t deny that the thought of cuddling Not-Harry and stroking his hair to make him feel a bit better was tempting. “Alright.” I chuckled. “Let me just text Niall that I won’t be home.”

He nodded and waited as I sent off a text to Niall, and then we were off in the direction of his house. Our hands seemed to gravitate towards each other, and we hadn’t even made it across the quad before our fingers were linked together, swinging easily between us.

“Shh…” he whispered as we reached his front door. He pushed it open gently and led the way into the entry before carefully toeing off his boots beside the door. I followed suit and Harry lead the way to the kitchen where he grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge and offered me one. Then he headed down the hallway towards his bedroom and I trailed behind.

He passed his own bedroom door where the twins had napped on Saturday and instead eased open the next one. “You awake, Kid?” he whispered.

A groan came from deep in the duvet as answer.

“I brought you a surprise.” he murmured softly, stepping into the room and waving me through.

Another small groan..

“But first I need you to drink some more water, okay?”

A small whine answered him and he handed me the second bottle, nodding me forward. I sat gently on the edge of the bed and slid a hand softly across the lump beside me.

“How ya feeling, Styles?” I asked quietly.

The blanket slid slowly down until Not-Harry’s messy curls emerged, followed by a pinched brow and heavy eyes. “Hi.” he whispered.

“Hi.” I smiled, running a gentle hand across his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Water?”

“Mhmm.” he nodded slowly. He struggled to sit up on one elbow as he sipped the offered drink and his brow creased further. When he’d had enough, he handed the bottle back to me and laid his head tenderly on the pillow.

“Want some double cuddles?” Harry asked, over my shoulder.

“Mhmm.” he hummed, scooting back in the bed to make room for us.

Harry lifted the edge of the duvet and I slipped inside, nudging my feet in between Not-Harry’s as I pulled him into my chest. His head dropped to my shoulder with a content sigh and I massaged his scalp with my fingertips. Harry’s arm looped around my waist as he crawled in behind me and his big feet tangled with both of ours.

“How was class?” Not-Harry whispered weakly.

“We’re failing, no big deal.” I smiled, “You just rest.”

He exhaled, warm against my collarbone and nodded slowly.

 

I woke to a tickle on my nose some time later and huffed in my half-woke state. Another tickle on my lips had me pressing them together. A warm finger traced my lower lip and I swatted the hand away.

“Nap time.” I mumbled.

“I’ve been napping for fourteen hours.” Not-Harry giggled. “I’m ready to party, now.”

I chuckled sleepily and opened my eyes. Two green orbs stared back at me from mere inches away and I grinned. “How ya feeling, love?” I murmured, tucking his messy curls out of his face.

“Much better.” he smiled, leaning into my hand.

“Told you cuddles always work.” Harry mumbled behind me.

“And you’re the one who usually gives them to him?” I smirked.

“You’re a much prettier sight to wake up to.” Not-Harry smiled. “You’re like a kitten when you’re asleep. It’s adorable.”

“You’re the worst.” I pouted.

Harry chuckled behind me and buried his face in my neck. “You’re the best cuddler I’ve ever met.”

“Mhmm.” his twin agreed. “Absolutely.”

“We’re gonna have so many sleepovers.” Harry sighed, pressing a ghost of a kiss to the side of my neck.

My face burned and my stomach erupted with butterflies, but before anything else could happen there was a soft knock at the door and a creak as it was pushed open. “How’s he doing?” a feminine voice asked.

“Feeling better, thanks, Gem.” Not-Harry smiled over my shoulder, unbothered about being caught in bed with his brother and me.

“Good, I’m glad.” Gemma replied a bit louder. “I’ve got lunch if you’re hungry? For Louis too.”

“Thanks, we’ll be out in a minute.” Harry rolled his top half away from me to respond.

“Thank you, Gemma!” I called over my shoulder as she backed out of the room.

“Any time.” she smiled.

The door shut and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“I should get dressed.” Not-Harry ducked his head bashfully.

I narrowed my eyes playfully and slid my hand down his ribs to his hip under the blanket. “Did I just take a nap with a naked boy without even knowing?”

“I’ve got pants on.” he blushed. “Just… not trousers. It’s not like I was expecting company!”

Harry and I rolled with laughter before Harry kicked the blanket off all three of us. “Come on, Lou, let’s give him some privacy to change.”

“Now that I really need it, yeah?” his brother rolled his eyes, gesturing to his exposed lower half.

I groaned and rolled over, climbing off the bed after Harry. “I need to leave before your legs do my head in. Come on, Haz, lunch time!” I pulled him towards the door by the hand, throwing a glance over my shoulder at the boy sprawled across the bed in only a tshirt and a pair of tight briefs. “Jesus Christ, you boys will be the end of me.” I muttered as I fled the room.

 

“When are you going to tell me which one you’re fucking?” Niall asked the moment I walked in the door after my class that afternoon.

“What?”

“You had a love bite on your neck Sunday morning. Did you pick one? Or are you just playing with both of them? Because you know that won’t end well. They’ll talk and they’ll figure it out and you’ll all end up hurt.”

“Neither.” I sighed, dropping onto the couch beside him. Neither of us bothered to pick up the stack of sheet music that slid to the floor with the bounce.

“Neither, what?”

“I’m not fucking either of them. And I’m not lying to either of them. And I haven’t chosen either of them, yet.”

“So then what about the love bite?” he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Which one did it come from?”

“Which one are you betting on again?” I asked casually.

Niall’s eyes widened comically and his mouth floundered for a moment before he he managed a weak, “You heard that?”

“We all did.” I nodded. “I’ve got half a mind to keep you all in the dark once I make my decision.”

“Come on, Lou, it was just fun. We didn’t even collect money on it.”

“Yet?” I asked. He winced and I nodded. “Yeah, well don’t worry, I won’t let either of them get hurt. Regardless of the other stuff, they’re my friends and I care about them. I won’t hurt them.”

“Fine.” He sighed… “But just to summarize, there has been snogging, but you’re not going to tell me which one you’ve been snogging?”

“Sounds about right.” I nodded, slapping him on the knee before getting to my feet. “I’m going to go study. Love you.”

“Come on!” he called after me as I retreated to my bedroom.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my group message with the boys.

_Me: Apparently one of you left a love bite on my neck the other night and Niall is now wondering which one I’ve chosen so they can settle their bet. I’ve told him I’m going to keep him in the dark from now on._

_Not-Harry: Liam saw you two holding halds on campus this morning but couldn’t tell which twin it was from far away. I’ve refused to comment, so far._

_Harry: Zayn’s been texting all afternoon. He’s begging for answers and hasn’t gotten them. Fuck their bet!_

_Me: We should have made a stipulation that if they can’t figure it out we get the money._

_Not-Harry: We should get the money by default._

_Harry: Bet’s back on, we’re going to win!_

 

The rest of the week passed quickly. Harry and I finally got told off by our History professor on Tuesday morning because I made a terrible joke that made him erupt in a loud burst of laughter during a lecture about a massacre. Not-Harry brought me tea on Wednesday -- again -- but I had the foresight to bring a couple of muffins for us to snack on as well, which earned me The Dimples. And Harry and I barely passed a pop quiz on Thursday that we definitely weren’t prepared for.

By Friday night, Zayn and Liam had organized a decent sized party and Niall and I were very excited.

“Which shirt should I wear? Black or white?” Niall asked, holding up two shirts.

“Does it matter?” I chuckled, stuffing my feet into my worn Vans.

“I know _you’ve_ got boys drooling all over you, but some of us actually have to try to pull. Which is more likely to get me laid by a stranger tonight?” he asked, holding them up again.

“Plain white or plain black?” I chuckled, “Black definitely. When in doubt, wear black.”

“Right. Almost ready?” he asked, tossing the white shirt on my bed and pulling the black one over his head.

“Yep.” I nodded. I crossed to my bathroom and checked myself in the mirror one last time before hitting the light and following Niall to the living room just as a knock sounded on the door. “That’ll be the boys.” I grinned, hurrying to get it.

“Sure, you get two dates and I’ve got to--”

“Hi!” I exclaimed, cutting off Niall’s grumbling as I flung the door open to reveal two gorgeous boys. “Wow. You both look amazing.” I sighed. Harry in his usual, eccentric style was dressed in a flamingo patterned shirt and black jeans with black heeled boots. Not-Harry, was dressed in a red plaid flannel buttoned ...most of the way up his chest. He hadn’t left it open as wide as his brother tended to do, but I was seeing much more of his smooth, tanned chest than I was used to. He was wearing his usual black jeans and a pair of tan boots that I’d only seen him wear one other time.

He reached up to adjust his man bun and smiled at me, showing off those dimples I loved so much. “Hi. You look lovely.” his smile turned shy and it was so endearing, I just wanted to pull him into a hug and squeeze the life out of him. So I did.

“You are so cute!” I groaned into his neck. Harry laughed beside us and I broke away from his brother to pull him in next. “You’re not bad, either.” I added with a smirk.

“Are you boys going to flirt all night, or can we go now?” Niall sighed dramatically. “Some of us actually have to make an effort to find a date.”

The twins exchanged a glance before tackling Niall in a double hug and raining kisses over his cheeks and forehead.

“Ahh! Okay! I love you, too! Ahhh!” Niall shrieked, batting them away with rosey cheeks. “Okay, okay, you win, let’s party.” he grinned.

It wasn’t until we reached the sidewalk that I realized Not-Harry had a camera bag slung across his shoulder. There was already a handful of people milling about with red plastic cups when we got to Zayn and Liam’s flat. There was a large rectangle covered in a sheet behind one of the couches covering up half the exposed brick wall and I knew it must be the painting Zayn was working on of the boys.

The last time I’d been over, all the furniture had been pushed around so that he could position his canvas facing the natural light from the window, but this time -- other than the canvas behind the couch -- everything seemed to be back in place. Two couches faced each other with a coffee table between, a small kitchen table separated the living area from the kitchen and the island in the kitchen was covered in red cups and bottles of alcohol that Niall and I had dropped off the previous day.

“There they are!” Liam grinned, throwing his arms round Not-Harry before moving to hug me next. “I’m so excited for all of this! The party is going to be sick, and the video is going to be even better! I’m so excited!”

I gave him a pat on the back and nodded in agreement. “I know. But I think the party would be even better if I had a drink.”

Niall and I made a beeline for the alcohol and I made myself a rum and coke before turning to find Harry and Not-Harry frowning, having what looked like a whispered argument with Liam and Zayn.

I didn’t know whether I should hang back or join, them, so I glanced around the room to kill a minute before deciding. The front door opened and Gemma skipped through followed by a couple of pretty girls.

“Louis!” she beamed when she saw me, “How are you, love?”

I pulled her into a hug and nodded against her hair. “I’m really good. How are you?”

“Great!” she beamed. “I brought some friends,” she gestured over her shoulder and I nodded politely at the girls who were pouring vodka into plastic cups.

“This is my mate Niall,” I introduced her, pulling Niall over by the sleeve. “Ni, this is the boys’ sister, Gemma.”

“Jesus, do your parents know how to make an ugly child?” he chuckled, shaking the hand she offered.

“Only the best!” she shrugged with a dimpled smirk. 

“Oh my God, Gemma!” A nasally voice exclaimed as a thin bloke in a patterned shirt enveloped her in a hug.

Gemma’s eyes widened over his shoulder and she patted his back awkwardly before extricating herself from his arms. Niall and I exchanged a look and stepped in on either side of her as she took a step back.

“Nick, hey.” her smile was forced, to say the least.

“How are you, love?” he beamed, cheeks flushed and words slurring already.

“I’m great,” she nodded. “Just talking to some friends, actually.” she added, thumbing at me over her shoulder.

“Let me get you a drink!” he exclaimed, “What’ll you have? I’ll get you a vodka soda! Don’t go anywhere!” Nick hurried off toward the makeshift bar and Gemma’s fake smile instantly dropped as she turned and stormed off in the direction of her brothers.

I took that as an invitation and Niall and I followed.

“What the _hell_ is Nick doing here?” she hissed, pulling Harry down to eye-level by the front of his flamingo shirt.

“I was just asking Liam the same thing.” he sighed. “I didn’t invite him, Gem. You know I wouldn’t.”

“We know.” Not-Harry nodded without lifting his gaze from his boots. He swallowed thickly and Liam jumped in to make excuses. I vaguely heard him mention inviting someone named Greg who must’ve brought him along, but I wasn’t listening.

I’d never seen Not-Harry looking so tense, so… upset. I didn’t know the story behind this Nick bloke, and I didn’t really care. I could see that he made not only Not-Harry, but both his siblings incredibly uncomfortable, and I hated that. Without a word, I skirted the group until I’d reached Not-Harry’s side and slipped my hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

His green eyes lifted to mine and he gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What do ya say we head out onto the patio?” I asked quietly as Nick’s voice called out Gemma’s name from the kitchen.

His eyes lit just a bit and he gave my hand a small squeeze as he nodded and allowed me to lead him through the growing throngs of people to the french doors that led outside.

“Wow.” I sighed, pausing just outside. “This looks amazing.”

“We did a bit of decorating this afternoon.” he chuckled quietly, pulling me towards a wicker loveseat in the corner. “Most of this just came from our back yard. The furniture and the pillows. The pouf came from Gem’s room. But the lights, Liam bought, so they get to stay.”

I sank down on the seat beside Not-Harry and tilted my head back to look at the cafe lights crisscrossing over the brick patio.

I heard the click of a shutter and turned to find Not-Harry lowering his camera with a small smirk on his pink lips. “You’re pretty.” he admitted quietly.

My stomach erupted in butterflies and I dropped my head to glance down at the liquid swirling in my plastic cup. “You didn’t get a drink.” I suddenly realized.

A small frown creased his brow and he glanced back towards the open doors. “It’s alright. I’ll get one later.”

“What do you like?” I asked, pulling my phone from my pocket. “I’ll have Niall bring it out.”

“You don’t have to do that.” he shook his head.

“You seem like the vodka cranberry type.” I squinted at him, pressing my lips together thoughtfully. “Definitely not a Rum and Coke boy.”

He blanched and shook his head. “Vodka cranberry is perfect.” he chuckled. “But you don’t have to--”

_Me: Bring us a vodka cran out here will ya?_

“Done.” I grinned, slipping my phone between my thighs.

“Did…” Not-Harry’s eyes dropped to his lap where he fiddled with the strap on his camera. “Did somebody tell you?”

“Tell me what?” I asked with a frown, catching one of his hands in mine.

He lifted his gaze and searched mine for a moment before sighing. “About Nick.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean, you heard what I heard, when Zayn and Liam mentioned him, but… Gemma acted like he was the last person she wanted to see here, and then you… you just looked so uncomfortable. And I couldn’t stand to see you like that.”

“So… Nobody told you? What happened with him?”

“No.” I shook my head. “And you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. I’m not going to ask.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a loud Irish accent. “Vodka cran for the princess!” Niall sang, bowing in front of us. “Your highness.” he grinned, holding out the red cup.

“Thank you.” Not-Harry chuckled, accepting the cup and sipping from it.

“Can I stay out there with you?” Niall asked, plopping down on my lap. “They’re arguing in there and I want to avoid punching someone until I’m drunker.”

“‘Course you can.” I chuckled, looping my arms round his waist and leaning back in my seat.

“Are they arguing with Nick?” Not-Harry asked quietly.

“Yeah. And his friend. Greg, I think? He’s throwing a fit.”

“Maybe I should go in there.” he sighed.

“Nah, they’ve got it handled.” Niall grinned, tossing his legs over Not-Harry’s lap, nearly kicking his drink out of his hands.

Not-Harry leaned into my shoulder and sighed. “This is going to be a lame party if we’re stuck out here all night.”

As if in answer, Gemma leapt through the doors with a sloshing cup in hand. “The party has arrived!” she announced.

A girl with bleached blonde hair followed through and tossed back her drink. “Alright, Kid?” she asked, tugging on Not-Harry’s bun.

“Mhmm.” he nodded. “Perfect. Lou, this is… Lou.” he paused and chuckled before turning to me. “Louis, this is our friend, Louise Teasdale. She actually used to babysit us all when we were kids, but now we babysit her little girl, Lux. Lou, this is Louis. Harry and I go to school with him. And his mate Niall.”

Lou smirked and leaned on the railing beside the bench we were sat on. “The Louis who didn’t know you were twins?”

“That’s the one.” I chuckled.

“Lou is also a twin.” Not-Harry explained. “Her sister Sam is around here somewhere. They’re the only other set we knew, before you came along, and since they aren’t identical we weren’t going to use them for our project, but now that we’ve incorporated Ernie and Doris, we figured we might as well. That way we can have five big displays. One for each set, and one group portrait. We can just photoshop them in on the ends of one of the ones we took with your kids.”

“Jesus.” I shook my head. “That’s amazing.”

“We’ve suddenly got twins coming out our ears!” Gemma laughed, wide-eyed and dimpled.

The music inside suddenly turned up and Harry came waltzing out the door with a cup in each hand. “Now that the mess is cleaned up,” he grinned, holding one cup out to me, “Let’s party!”

I downed the remainder of my own drink before dropping my new cup into the first and lifting it to clink against Harry’s with a dull thud. “Cheers!”

The others echoed my sentiment and we all tipped our heads back.

An hour or two later I was waltzing round the coffee table with Harry while I sang _Set Fire to the Rain_ with haunting accuracy to rounds of applause from our crowd of onlookers. Niall was twirling Not-Harry, while plotting to catch the attention of a girl who’d arrived with his friend Ed and Liam and Zayn were snogging in an arm chair by the door.

My body was pressed tight to Harry’s, our hips pressed together more intimately than they ever had been, and my breaths were growing shallower with every loop around the table. The loud completely off-key singing probably wasn’t helping either.

“Where’d you learn to waltz?” I asked in an attempt to steer my thoughts away from his hips leading me around the room.

“I’m a theater major, remember?” he smirked.

“Riiiight.” I nodded, narrowing my eyes playfully at him. “Now that I think about it, my nan always told me never to date an actor. Never knew if they were being themselves or playing a part, she said.”

“Are you worried?” he asked with a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I bit my lip and shook my head, before belting out the chorus. “But I set fiiiiiire to the raaaaiiiinnnn! Watched it pour as I touched your faaaaace!” I reached up and cupped Harry’s face as I continued singing loudly. “Well, it burned while I cried, 'Cause I heard it screaming Out your name, Your naaaaaame!”

Harry’s arm round my waist pulled me closer and his face dropped to speak directly into my ear. “You’re an incredible singer.”

“I’m drunk!” I laughed, dropping my head back to beam up at him.

“I love your voice. So sexy.” he murmured in that deep rumbling voice I’d grown to love.

“Speak for yourself.” I chuckled, knocking his jaw with my cheekbone.

His lips caught my temple before I moved away and my cheeks burned.

“I wish you were just acting.” I sighed, dropping my head to his shoulder. “Then it would be an easy choice. I wish one of you was a complete wanker so I could tell you to fuck off and make a decision once and for all. But you’re both so perfect. You’re both amazing in your own way.”

Harry pressed another kiss to my cheek, just in front of my ear before whispering, “Stop worrying about it. Everything will work itself out in the end.”

“What does that mean?” I asked, pulling back to look into his jade eyes.

Harry grinned and spun me around, dropping my hand and allowing me to stumble into a similar, muscular chest. Identical, even.

“Hey, you.” Not-Harry chuckled, looping his arms round my waist and holding me steady on my drunken legs. “Having a good time?”

“The best.” I nodded. “Think I need a new drink though. I seem to have lost mine.”

“Well, that just won’t do.” he smiled adorably, dropping both his arms, but catching one of my hands in his bigger one. He led me to the kitchen where we both made ourselves new drinks and watched as Niall hopped up on the coffee table to rap some Nelly song he only loved while smashed.

I hopped up on the countertop and leaned back against the cabinets and Not-Harry leaned against the counter next to me. There were a couple of people mixing drinks at the island, but they weren’t paying us any attention, so when Not-Harry spoke quietly, I wasn’t all that surprised.

“I dated Nick for about nine months.” he admitted without turning to me. “Harry had a boyfriend at the time too, and the four of us hung out all the time. We all got on really well… At least. We thought so, for a while. We were together about seven months when Harry and Nathan broke up. And then Nick was suddenly like, always busy. I could never get hold of him when I called, and he always had like a study group or a shift at work when I tried to see him. And I would have bought it, except every time Harry went out to a pub or something, he’d run into him. They’d end up hanging out, because they were friends and then he’d come home and be like, ‘Why weren’t you out with Nick?’ After about the third time that happened, I told him I thought he was avoiding me. Which of course didn’t sit well with him. So the next week, when Nick showed up at the pub, again -- _without me_ , again -- he texted me.”

Not-Harry shifted his weight to his other foot and took a gulp of his drink. My stomach was in knots, worried about where this story was going. Anticipating whatever it was that Nick did to hurt this beautiful, pure, flower of a man beside me.

“So anyway, I meet them at the pub and we play it off like I didn’t know he was there. Like I’d planned on meeting Harry all along. And he was a bit surprised at first, but after a few minutes he seemed normal. We danced, we drank. Harry sang karaoke and we were all having fun. So when we left the pub and Nick invited me over to stay the night, I thought things were getting back to normal. I thought whatever had been going on was coming to an end. And then he asked Harry over, too.”

My jaw dropped on a gasp and my head whipped around to look at him.

He nodded and turned, settling his hip against the counter so he could face me. “He said he felt bad about Harry and Nathan’s breakup and he missed all of us hanging out as a group. He invited us both over saying we should watch _Love Actually_ and drink hot chocolate like we used to do. So of course, we both went over there. Harry only made it through half the movie before he was nodding off, so he texted Gemma and didn’t tell us until she got there to pick him up. He told me to have a nice night and left. And like, I love my brother, don’t get me wrong, but I hadn’t had any like, _quality time_ with my boyfriend in weeks, so I was glad to see him go.” he chuckled awkwardly. “Things got better after that for a couple of weeks. Nick and I got back to normal for the most part, and Harry started hanging out with us more. Nick said he didn’t want Harry to think he wasn’t welcome to hang out with us anymore just because it wasn’t technically a double date anymore.”

“How thoughtful.” I commented, probably a bit more bitterly than I’d meant to.

Not-Harry scoffed and nodded in agreement before taking another large gulp of his drink. He licked his berry stained lips and continued. “So then one night, we all got pretty wasted at this pub, and we were out on the dance floor and Nick kind of just… saddled up behind Harry. I didn’t even realize it at first, because we weren’t like… grinding or whatever. We were all just kind of jumping and dancing around in a group. And then like, the next thing I know his hands are on Harry’s hips and he’s like, really dancing up on him. So I grabbed his arm like, ‘Hey, boyfriend over here.’ And he played it off like he got confused. And…” he sighed heavily and shook his head, dropping his gaze to the contents of his cup. “And we were both wearing black tops and it was dark and we were drunk, so we bought it. We just accepted it and let the night continue on without any further debate.”

I threw back the last of my drink, hoping I was wrong about where this story was going.

“Then when we left the pub, Nick invited Harry over again. Later on, when we talked about it, Harry told me he was getting a weird vibe off him that night, so that’s why he turned him down, but at the time, he just said he was tired and wanted to go home.” He paused then, and swirled the dwindling contents of his cup before tipping it back and downing the rest. He met my eyes as he finished his story. “That night, while we were… you know. Things were different. He was rougher, and… more vocal. Like, _loud_. It was like he was trying to recreate a porno or something. Not a turn on.” he sighed and dropped his head back. “And then when he finished, he called me Harry. And everything sort of just… fell into place.”

“Aw, love…” I sighed, running a hand over his shoulder.

“I don’t have feelings for him still.” he assured me. “I’m over it, in that sense. It’s just… the other part of it that I sometimes have trouble with still.” he dropped his gaze. “Harry is the one who introduced me to Nick. They met through the theater department. Nick was on the school paper and wrote an article about the play H was in. But he’d been dating Nathan for a couple of months. He liked Nick, they got on well, but he didn’t _like_ him. He invited him out one night, and Nick and I hit it off pretty quickly. It was only after nine months that I realized he was just settling for me because I look like the one he couldn’t have. He was trying to hook up with Harry all those weeks he was avoiding me, and when I came out and joined them, I think he got it in his head to try for a threesome.”

“Hence Harry’s adamancy from day one about the no threesome rule.” I nodded in understanding.

“We never had that problem until Nick came along.” he shrugged. “We’re so different, people generally don’t even think of us as twins. If it weren’t for the faces, I think people would forget.”

"I get that." I nodded. "And I’m not here to fulfill some porno fantasy. I understand the struggle of trying to be an individual within a pair. When Phoebe and Daisy were born, I remember everyone kept calling them _The Twins_. How are _The Twins_? Are _The Twins_ sleeping through the night? Are _The Twins_ walking yet? It was always about them as a pair, but even from the get go, they were completely different. Phoebe slept through anything except Daisy crying, but Daisy woke up if someone sneezed across town. She started walking a full month before Daisy, because Dais knew if she cried long enough, someone would just pick her up. She still cries she drop of a hat, and Phoebe still does everything she can to comfort her when no one else can. They're two very different people. They just happen to look very alike."

"I guess we found the perfect boy to understand us when we stumbled across you, didn't we?" He chuckled softly. "What I'm still trying to understand though, is how you've managed to have a crush on both of us."

"You and me both, mate." I sighed sadly.

"LOUIS TOMLINSON! If you don't get over here and do a body shot off Liam's abs right fucking now, I'm going to tell everyone about your fear of carrots!" Niall shouted across the open floor plan.

"You're afraid of carrots?" Not-Harry asked, face twisted in amusement.

"Sorry, duty calls!" I hedged, hopping off the counter and hurrying off in search of Liam's sculpted stomach.

 

"I'm so sticky!" Liam whined, running a hand up underneath the hem of his t-shirt. It was past two in the morning and the party had dwindled significantly. Gemma and the Teasdale Twins were cuddled up on the couches on the verge of passing out, but they were all that was left.

I was sandwiched between the boys on the wicker loveseat while Niall lounged in a chair across from us and Zayn sprawled across Liam's lap in the one beside him. Not-Harry had done a walk through the carnage of the flat with his camera -- including the girls passed out on the sofas -- before joining us on the patio and he was scrolling through some of the photos he'd taken throughout the evening as we talked.

"If you'd stop showing off your muscles every time you get drunk, people would stop doing shots off of them." I pointed out, dropping my head to Not-Harry's shoulder to get a look at the photos.

"If you lot would learn to lick all the tequila off, it wouldn't matter." He countered. "And I've got lime juice all over my neck!"

"You filthy boy." Zayn hummed, dropping his head to lathe his tongue over his boyfriend's jugular.

There was a click of a shutter and the screen on the camera turned dark for a moment before an image of the couple across from us appeared.

"Perv." Harry chuckled, leaning into my side.

"It's romantic." Not-Harry shrugged, unashamed. "It's not pervy until they're having sex and I'm photographing it without permission."

"The exact line in the sand is a bit blurry, I'd say," Liam smirked, "But he's never come close. Plus, last Valentine's Day he helped me make a scrapbook for Zaynie and all his creeping came in handy."

"At least somebody had a good time that night." Harry sighed.

"I didn't." I scoffed. "What happened to you?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally. "Got drunk, cried over boys. The usual."

"Cried over Nick, he means." Not-Harry chimed in with a huffed laugh from my other side.

"Ah." I nodded.

"You told him about Nick?" Liam asked, arching his eyebrows in surprise.

He nodded and dropped his camera to his lap. "I planned on it eventually, of course, but when he showed up tonight, I figured it was time."

"Is anyone going to tell me who this twat bag is?" Niall asked.

"My ex-boyfriend." Not-Harry replied easily. "Basically, it took me nine months to figure out he was only dating me because he couldn't have Harry."

Niall frowned. "So you're telling me I should've punched him when I had the chance, instead of taking the high road and bringing you a princess drink?"

"Wouldn't have hurt." I shrugged.

"So that's what we did on Valentine's Day." Harry announced. "What happened to you?"

"I was home in Donny for the weekend and watched Lottie and Fizzy get all made up to go on dates, and then I stayed home and watched the kids while my parents went out."

"I’m failing to see the problem, here." Harry frowned.

"I'd volunteer to do that any day if the week." His brother agreed.

"Well it was fine until I took them to get ice cream and the twat behind the counter didn't listen when I told him Daisy had a nut allergy and we all spent the night at the hospital after her throat closed up."

"Why didn't you tell us she had a nut allergy?" Harry exclaimed. "We could've killed her!"

"With the lasagna your mum fed us? Don't worry, love. I pay attention. And so does she. And Phoebe."

"You win for worst Valentine's Day." Not-Harry sighed, threading his fingers between mine on my thigh. "I'd rather get drunk and cry over boys, any day."

"Don't cry over boys." I chuckled, squeezing his hand in mine.

Zayn stifled a yawn in Liam's shoulder and Liam fonded at him for a moment before giving his thigh an affectionate pat. "You ready for bed, babe?"

Zayn hummed in response and Liam chuckled.

"I better get this one off. Feel free to stay as long as you like. All night if you want. We'll clean up in the morning, don't worry about the mess."

Niall let out a small snort and I glanced over to find him sagging in his chair.

"I should probably get him home, too." I sighed. "He's twice as heavy once he passes out."

"Just leave me here." He mumbled, waving me off. "I'll crash on the floor."

"I'll find you a blanket." Liam nodded, herding Zayn back inside.

"Can we have a sleepover tonight?" Harry breathed in my ear, threading his fingers through the hand that his brother wasn't already holding.

"Here?" I asked. "Looks like they're running out of room."

"Nah, let's get out of here." Not-Harry shook his head on my shoulder. 

"We promised sleepovers, remember?" Harry poked me in the ribs and I squeaked, leaning away, into Not-Harry's side.

"Okay, okay. Let's have a sleepover." I giggled.

After a bit of drunken squabbling, we decided to stay at my flat. It was closer, and happened to be conventionally empty tonight, although none of us said it aloud.

As we stumbled through the door, I suddenly had a vision of my incredibly messy bedroom. My dirty clothes scattered across the floor, my books and homework piled sloppily on the desk. My unmade bed with drool stained pillows.

And of course that's when Harry's deep husky voice rumbled in my ear. "Show us your bedroom?"

"Why don't you stand here and count to a hundred, and then come in, yeah?" I laughed, hoping to cover up my embarrassment with humour.

Not-Harry hummed his disappointment before giving me a small nudge foreword. "Go do some damage control." He chuckled.

A hand came down on my left buttock as I left, and I choked on a semi-hysterical laugh as I hurried off to tidy up a bit.

I quickly gathered all the clothes off the floor and shoved them into the closet, shutting the door on them and praying I didn't forget and let the avalanche loose until after they'd left. Then I gathered all my homework into a more decent pile on the desk before turning to the bed. I couldn't do much at the moment for the drool stains other than flip the pillows, so once I'd done that, I straightened my duvet on top and turned to the door just in time to watch it swing slowly open.

Two identical smirks greeted me and I sank down on the edge of the bed with a small sigh. "I didn't really plan for company tonight." I admitted. "It was a bit of a mess."

"Nothing wrong with a little mess every now and then." Harry grinned, stepping into the room and glancing around with an amused smile.

"I've seen your rooms, Haz, they’re spotless." I deadpanned.

"Saw mine on a good day." Not-Harry smirked.

"Normally a completely different story." Harry nodded. "So quit fussing and give us the tour."

"Oh, erm," I glanced around the small bedroom with an awkward chuckle and shrugged. "I mean, this is it. I've got a closet that's bursting at the seams with hidden dirty clothes at the moment," I gestured towards it, earning a laugh from both boys, then pointed to the keyboard and IKEA desk against the wall. "My office." Then the bathroom door. "My other office." Then I dropped my hands to the mattress on either side of me and shrugged. "Bed."

"Ah... now we're getting somewhere." Harry smirked.

They moved forward slowly, closing the distance between us in just a few steps and before I knew it I was staring up at the two most beautiful men I’d ever known.

“What kind of pajama attire do you usually require for sleepovers?" Not-Harry asked, his brow creased with concern.

"Oh, erm, I just usually sleep in my pants, or joggers if it's cold... I've got some you could borrow if you like?"

"Probably won't be very cold tonight." Harry smirked. "Body heat and all. Shall we?"

My eyes widened as the boys reached for the hems of their shirts, and the next second I was staring back and forth between two nearly identical bare chests. They had very similar muscle definition -- solid without being completely chiseled -- and the same adorable little love handles above their jeans.

The biggest difference was the tattoos. Not-Harry had spotless, smooth, tan skin from neck to waistline, while Harry had several tattoos adorning his torso. Along with the big ones I'd seen through and around his skimpy outfits over the past weeks, there were also several smaller ones I hadn't noticed. A bird cage and drama masks on his ribs, and a small collection of sketches and letters on his chest and collarbones.

"You can't sleep in that, can you?" Not-Harry smirked as they tossed their shirts aside and reached for their flies in unison.

I flushed and shook my head, reaching for the hem of my own t-shirt as I kicked off my Vans. By the time all three of us were down to our pants, I was doing everything I could to keep my erection at bay, but I was beginning to wonder if it was as losing battle.

The boys climbed into the bed as if this was something they did all the time, -- and for all I knew, maybe it was -- but personally I was shaking like a leaf.

"Cold?" Harry asked innocently, "We can warm you up, right, Kid?"

"Definitely." He nodded, rolling into my side and burying his face in my neck. "Never turn down a cuddle with Tommo."

Harry's big hand found mine under the covers and he rolled away, pulling it over him so I was spooning him from behind. "I like being the little spoon." He giggled, flattening my hand on his bare chest.

Not-Harry scooted up behind me and pressed a kiss under my ear. And my eyes drooped closed with a sigh. "I'm in the middle of a Styles Sandwich right now and I don't know if I've ever been happier." I murmured.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so excited about how many people love this fic! Thank you so much for all the comments and messages here, and on tumblr. It took me so long to finish this after I started it because I got stuck on who I wanted Louis to choose and how to make that happen, but I've got pretty much the whole thing outlined now, so it's just a matter of getting it all down. I'm posting chapters as I finish them and adding to the tags as I go, so, keep an eye out or subscribe, and don't forget to leave me kudos and comments if you like it (or if you don't. I'd still love to hear from you!).
> 
> Also, this is completely unbetaed and I'm editing it all on my own as I go, so if there are mistakes, that definitely why. SORRY! 
> 
> Thank you so much!!! X

I woke up to a nose nudging my jugular and hummed contentedly, leaning into the touch. Harry dropped his forehead to my shoulder and I felt his lips curl into a lazy smile against it, hand flattening on my ribs.

I curled my arm up and tangled my fingers in his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. His curls were warm from the sun shining in through the window and I exhaled deeply, soaking it all up. This was nice.

I’d almost forgotten we weren’t alone, until Not-Harry shifted behind me, curling in closer against my back. His arm wrapped itself around me and his hand settled low on my stomach as he nestled his face into the curve of my neck.

“Morning.” he mumbled, lips brushing my skin with each syllable.

“Hmm… Morning.” I hummed, finally opening my eyes. Harry’s jade eyes blinked up at me sleepily before shifting over my shoulder. And they didn’t come back. For a long moment, he stared at his brother before something shifted in his eyes and he bit down on his lower lip.

Not-Harry nibbled at my neck, just below my ear and my eyes slid closed on their own accord. Whatever silent conversation they’d just had, seemed irrelevant as Harry’s big hand cupped my cheek and suddenly he was kissing me.

I sighed into his mouth, clutching his bicep with my only free hand as his brother kissed a trail down my neck, across my shoulder blade. His fingers swirled through the sparse hairs below my bellybutton, and I trembled under their hands -- overwhelmed already.

Not-Harry groaned against my shoulder, curling closer, and the unmistakable shape of an impressive erection pressed against my tailbone causing me to gasp against Harry’s lips. Spurred on, Harry swiped his tongue into my mouth, deepening our kiss despite my atrocious breath. Not-Harry clutched my hip, rocking against me and I whimpered, dropping my hand to the curve of Harry’s waist to steady myself.

His knees knocked mine and without conscious thought, we were tangling our legs together, my knee slotting between his effortlessly. My cock was straining against my pants, leaking and throbbing almost painfully, but I couldn’t bring myself to even _hope_ for relief.

This was a dream. It had to be.

As if reading my mind, Not-Harry bit down on my shoulder as he thrusted against the cleft of my arse again and I moaned filthily, this time drawing a similar sound from Harry’s full lips. And if that wasn’t enough, Not-Harry’s big hand was suddenly slipping lower, teasing the edge of my pants, dipping just underneath the elastic.

I whined, gripping Harry’s love handle tighter. My left arm was trapped under the pillows, curved under Harry’s neck and prickling painfully, but I couldn’t find room in my brain to care. I was being assaulted from every angle and I didn’t know how long I could last before I was pleading for some kind of relief.

Harry squirmed against me and I knew he had to be as uncomfortably aroused as his brother and I were, but I was so afraid to make a move -- afraid of ruining this moment, tipping the scales back into reality and fucking up more than just this steamy porno moment -- that all I could bring myself to do was catch his lip between my teeth and suck it into my mouth.

At the ungodly sound that slipped from his mouth, Not-Harry’s hand dipped lower, circling the base of my shaft. When he started thrusting with actual intent a moment later, squeezing and stroking my cock in his big hand, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I dropped my hand to the tent Harry’s pants and trembled at the resulting whine. None of us would last much longer at this rate. It was too hot, too weird. Too everything.

Harry’s lips dropped to the hinge of my jaw and I let out a loud gasp and stroked him harder. I was dizzy with arousal and need. The need to come. The need to hear them come. The need to feel them come. The need to _make_ them come.

“Fuck.” I breathed again when Not-Harry moaned against the nape of my neck. He was thrusting harder, picking up his pace as he neared the finish line, and I was right there with him, but I couldn’t leave Harry behind.

He was sucking a bruise on my neck and only stopped to let out a loud, obscene moan when I slid my hand into his pants, circling his straining cock and stroking him quickly.

“Lou…” Not-Harry whined against my overheated skin.

Harry’s hand slid from my cheek up to fist in my hair and I keened as he met every turn of my hand with a thrust of his hips.

And then it happened. In a series of whines and moans and grunts, whispered curses and tense, throbbing bodies, we fell apart at the hands of one another.

My head dropped to Harry’s chest as I slid my hand from his pants and wiped it on the sheet between us. “What the fuck was that.” I panted.

The boys were silent -- whether from exhaustion or discomfort, I wasn’t sure -- but they each curled closer in around me as we came down from whatever planet we’d just flown off to.

We might’ve laid there for three minutes or three hours. I had no idea. But eventually, I realized they were waiting on me to give them some idea of where to go from here. And I just didn’t know.

So instead of making any life changing decisions, or imparting any wisdom I couldn’t come up with in my sated state, I simply withdrew my arms from their home around Harry and looked up into his bright eyes.

“We should probably get back and help clean up the party, yeah?”

He blinked lazily and nodded. “Ye--” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. “Yeah.”

“Was a mess.” Not-Harry agreed, voice muffled against my shoulder.

“Probably not even awake yet.” Harry added.

“We could stop for donuts.”

“And coffee. Need coffee.”

And this was good. They weren’t pressing. They weren’t asking questions or expecting answers. They were making plans for breakfast and discussing rubbish and recycling bins. Maybe we hadn’t ruined anything.

 

After three showers and two stops, we returned to Liam and Zayn’s flat with a dozen donuts and half a dozen cups of coffee. Niall was passed out on the couch but we could hear the shower running in the other room, so I knew he wouldn’t be out much longer -- with or without us.

I made a beeline for his sprawled form and straddled his hips before flattening my body on top of his.

“Brought you donuts.” I mumbled into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms round me.

“Coffee?”

“Mhmm.”

“Bless you.” he sighed.

“You’re making us jealous over here.” Not-Harry’s pout came just before a firm body laid down over the top of mine.

“Stop complaining and do something about it then.” Harry chuckled, burrowing his face into my neck.

“Get one bloody threesome under ya belt and suddenly you’re -- AHH!!” Niall broke off with a screech when I dug my fingers into his ribs. My busted eardrum was well worth interrupting him before he could finish that thought aloud.

“Come get your breakfast before I dump your coffee down the drain.” I grumbled, pressing up enough that Harry got the message and climbed off of us, allowing me to get up too.

“Wasn’t going to need breakfast if you stayed much longer.” Niall groaned, running a hand over his ribs. “Two seconds from suffocatin’, I’m telling ya.”

“Two seconds from losing your coffee, now.” I scoffed.

Zayn and Liam joined us just as we all settled down in the morning sunshine on the patio with our chosen donuts and thanked us profusely for coming back to help them clean up.

“Seriously?” I scoffed around a full mouth. I swallowed and wiped the crumbs from my lips before continuing. “You lot’ve literally done this entire project for us, so far.”

“That’s not true.” Harry frowned beside me.

Niall let out a loud squawk of laughter before shaking his head. “Yes it is!”

“You wrote the song and came up with the idea.” Not-Harry pointed out.

“And _Liam and Zayn_ handed over their flat,” I ticked off on my fingers, “ _You and Harry_ provided furniture and decorations for the patio scene and spent half the night filming a party that _Liam and Zayn_ put together, and _Gemma_ has given up her whole weekend to help, all for the sole purpose of _our_ homework assignment.”

“All we did was buy some booze and get everybody drunk.” Niall agreed.

“Who cares?” Not-Harry laughed. “You helped us with our project, too.”

“By bringing you a bunch of kids?” I arched an eyebrow at him. “I’m failing to see the comparison.”

“It was a huge help.” he shrugged. “You turned our project from two people, to _ten_. That’s huge, Lou. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

“Besides, what are friends for?” Harry smirked. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you run lines with me when I audition for the play in a couple weeks.”

“You’re auditioning?” Niall perked up.

“Theater majors are required to audition.” he nodded. “They haven’t announced what it’s going to be yet, though. So I don’t know if I’m excited yet.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. You’ll be fantastic in whatever they do and you know it.”

Harry scrunched his nose in an attempt not to smile, but fell short, dimples popping regardless.

“I’ll run lines with you whatever it is.” I agreed.

“And if it’s a musical, we’ll help you practice all your songs!” Niall added enthusiastically.

“Fine.” he beamed. “Can we be over this whole _who’s a better friend_ thing then? Because it’s not a competition.”

“Not between the rest of us, at least.” Liam grinned mischievously, nudging Not-Harry with his foot.

I groaned and buried my face in Harry’s shoulder and he just chuckled and gave my knee a reassuring squeeze before casually leaving his hand there on my knee. I didn’t hate it.

 

We went out to a pub that night and drank until our smiles were warm and blurred. There wasn’t a dance floor at this pub, but when _I’ve Had the Time of My Life_ came on (the _Dirty Dancing_ version) Harry was just drunk enough to pull me out of my chair and sing every word at the top of his lungs as he swayed our bodies to the music.

“I think we’ve reached prime weird levels for our video.” Niall grinned as we stumbled back to our booth.

“Yeah?” Harry beamed, turning excited, glassy eyes on me.

“Definitely.” I giggled, sagging against him.

“Come on then!” Niall crowed, shoving Zayn out of the booth and climbing out behind him. “Let’s go sing!”

The six of us stumbled back to Zayn and Liam’s flat where Gemma and her boyfriend, Mike, were lounging on the couch, binge-watching _Friends_ while they waited on us.

“Drunk enough to get weird?” she smirked as we stumbled in.

“Harry just reenacted _Dirty Dancing_ in the middle of the pub. So I’d say, yeah.” Zayn chuckled, making a beeline for his bedroom.

We had planned out the shots we absolutely needed and discussed them with Gemma so she could help the boys capture the ones we wanted them to be in, and once we’d gotten them, we planned on passing the camera round the circle as we kept drinking for the rest of the night.

“So we need to go through to song a couple of times first.” Niall reminded the group at large as we all migrated out to the patio. “Make sure we get Lou and me both singing.”

“But _first_ we bake.” Zayn announced with a smirk as he reappeared from inside the flat with a baggie of joints ready for the occasion.

“You are my favorite person.” I beamed as he passed me one.

“Haven’t you got your hands full enough?” Liam scoffed, tugging Zayn closer to his side.

The boys all giggled, but I made a very mature hand-motion in Liam’s general direction in response.

We smoked. Not-Harry took some artistically lit shots of us blowing smoke into the night sky before setting it up on a tripod facing Niall. And when we were loose and giggly, Niall pulled his guitar into his lap and began plucking. He messed around for a moment -- plucking and strumming random chords -- before going into the single without breaking stride.

I sang along the first time around, sagging in my seat on the wicker bench, watching Not-Harry’s adorable frown of concentration as he filmed with my fingers tangled in Harry’s hair. He’d seated himself on the ground, leaned back against the arm of the loveseat his brother and I were sharing, long legs draped over the tan, leather pouf they’d stolen from Gemma’s bedroom. His head leaned into my touch and mine dropped to the back of the seat and I stared up at the cafe lights strung across the sky as we finished the song.

“Wake up, love, you’re up next.” Not-Harry nudged me gently with his elbow and I nodded, sitting back up and pulling my foot up onto the seat in front of me.

“I’m ready when you are.” I smiled lazily.

“If you’re trying to look completely baked for this video you’re doing a really good job.” Gemma smirked around her own puff of smoke.

“Shut up and enjoy the show.” I scoffed, adjusting my t-shirt haughtily.

Harry nudged my hand with his head and I renewed my gentle scratching on his scalp as Not-Harry trained his tripod on me and pressed the record button before rejoining me on the bench. Niall’s voice cut clear and strong through the haze of smoke and tequila and I let myself drown in it. I was just wasted enough that I wasn’t self-conscious. I didn’t care that there were half a dozen sets of eyes on me, and I didn’t care that there was a camera directed my way.

I listened to my best friend singing the song we’d written for each other, and when it was time for me to join him, my voice floated across the circle high and clear and effortless.

Maybe it was the weed, maybe it was the atmosphere or the company. Either way, I’d never felt better. I was singing my favorite song to my favorite people and I couldn’t be happier.

When I opened my eyes at the end of the song -- unsure how long they’d been closed -- Gemma was passing out a round of tequila shots and lime wedges. We drank. We sucked. And then Niall picked up his guitar again and started all over again.

Except this time was different.

This time, when we reached the chorus, Harry joined in, humming at first, then singing the now-familiar words back to us. Liam joined in quickly, and by the end of the song, there were eight voices harmonizing in the low light of the cafe lights.

Niall tacked on an extra chorus at the end, meeting my eyes with a warm smile, which I immediately returned. This was exactly what this song was about.

 

The rest of the night was a blur. We drank some more, and smoked some more. We shouted obscenities at the neighbor upstairs when he complained of the weed smell. We passed around the camera as we sang every song we could think of -- even when Niall didn’t know how to play it -- and eventually we all passed out on the living room floor in a pile of limbs.

 

I woke up starving, aching from a night on a hardwood floor. My head was resting on Niall’s scrawny calf, and I had a twin on either side. Gemma and Mike were apparently smart enough to claim the couches and looked comfy as can be.

When my bladder could no longer be ignored, and my stomach was making itself heard as well, I extricated myself from the dog pile we’d formed overnight and shuffled to the toilet before wandering into the kitchen.

I rummaged through the cupboards until I found a box of just add water pancake mix and sighed with relief. I glanced at Niall asleep on the rug and weighed my options. He never allowed me to cook -- for good reason -- but my grumbling stomach didn’t want to wait for him to wake up and agree to make me breakfast. Besides, how hard could pancakes be?

Fifteen minutes later, I found out first hand.

“Fuck!” I hissed, snatching my hand away from the edge of the pan. My first attempt had gotten so stuck, I had to scrape it from the bottom of the pan and start over completely. Once I’d found some butter in the fridge and greased the pan liberally, I gave it another try, only to be burned by popping butter within seconds. “What the fuck!”

“What the fuck are you doing?” A deep rumbling laugh sounded behind me as a long tattooed arm reached around and moved the pan from the burner.

"'M hungry!" I whined, wiping my burned arm on my shirt.

"Let me see." Harry murmured, reaching for my forearm. I hissed as he ran a thumb over the small red spot where I'd been hit. "Butter was a terrible idea." He chuckled, lifting my arm to his lips and ghosting a kiss across my battle wound.

"The first one got stuck! What else was I supposed to do? Pancakes are supposed to be easy." I pouted, deflated.

Harry's dimples made an appearance, this time at my expense, and he reached over my shoulder into one of the cupboards I'd left open. "Try this." He shook a can of cooking spray between us and I groaned.

"Can't you just do it for me? I'm withering away, here."

"I can help you clean up this mess you made and teach you how to do it the right way." He countered with a smirk that had me agreeing despite his awful terms.

He tossed my second pancake of the morning and used a napkin to wipe the remaining buttery mess from the bottom of the pan before spraying it and directing me to drop a scoop of batter into the middle of the pan.

"Perfect." He beamed, handing me the spatula. "Think they've got any juice in this place?" He added, turning to dig through the fridge."

"Cuppa tea sounds even -- Fuck!"

He spun around, slamming the fridge in the process burst into laughter at the sight of my mangled pancake. "I looked away for two seconds! What did you do?"

"I tried to flip it!"

"It's not ready to flip!"

"You didn't tell me that!"

"I didn't tell you to flip it, either!"

"You handed me a spatula!"

"He's got you there." Niall's gravelly voice cut in as he stumbled past and hoisted himself up on the counter across from us.

"Nobody warned me he was such a disaster in the kitchen." Harry crossed his arms. "He should come with a warning label: Cannot be trusted with butter or spatulas."

"Or fire." Niall added helpfully.

"I'm really feeling the love, here, lads." I deadpanned, shoving Niall.

"You're hopeless, love." Harry cooed, draping both arms over my shoulders from behind.

"Not if you give him the right job." Niall grinned, earning himself a sliver of redemption. "Give him a kettle and he's marriage material."

"That's what a man likes to hear."

We turned towards the source of the voice and found Not-Harry rolling over and pulling himself up off the floor. Slowly.

"Tea would be perfect right now." He yawned.

A pinch to my ribs had me turning back to Harry. "You handle the tea, I'll take care of breakfast." He grinned.

 

“I'm going to get this printed on a t-shirt." Harry giggled, holding his phone out over the plate containing my third botched pancake. Technically this one was edible, but he had insisted on saving it long enough to show it to the whole group.

"I'm getting Mrs. Niall Horan printed on a shirt, because he's the only one worth loving round here." I pouted, curling into my best friend’s side.

"He literally fell off the countertop from laughing so hard, when H showed him your pancake." Not-Harry reminded me with a grin.

"But he feeds me." I pointed out. "I'd starve without him."

"Who fed you this morning, hmm?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows at me across the table and I rolled my eyes and hid a smile behind my teacup instead of giving him the satisfaction of an answer.

"To be fair," Liam piped up thoughtfully, "Out of the lot of us, Harry would definitely make the best wife. He's the best cook, he's the only one of us who cleans without complaining, and he's a little spoon. He's the whole package."

"Not to mention, I'm a fabulous lay." Harry smirked over his own mug of tea. "Never an unsatisfied customer."

"Are you whoring yourself out, Harold?" I asked mock seriously.

"Might be able to afford my own place if I was." He laughed.

"Start up a business with that twin gimmick and you could be swimmin' with Scrooge McDuck!" Zayn suggested with a dark smile.

 

“So tell me about your threesome.” Niall plopped down on the couch later that afternoon and stared at me with an expectant smile on his face.

“Who said I had a threesome?” I countered, grabbing a couple of water bottles from the fridge and tossing him one before joining him.

He turned on the tv and fired up a game of FIFA before pressing further. “You had two gorgeous boys to yourself in an empty flat, if you didn’t have a threesome, I’m disowning you.”

“Disown away.” I rolled my eyes, grunting as I made a particularly impressive save.

Our conversation became stilted as we got more into the game, but I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t drop it there. “As much of a fantasy as it is…” he paused to take out one of my guys before continuing. “I just… Can’t… Fuck!” he shouted as I scored a goal.

“Maybe if you paid attention to the game you’d be winning.” I smirked.

“I just don’t think I’d be into it.” he continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “I think I’d be too -- dammit! -- overwhelmed.” _Tell me about it._ “What do you even do with that many body parts at once? I would only be able to focus on one at a time and then I’d feel bad for leaving the other out.” _Unless the other is perfectly content getting himself off on you._

I grunted noncommittally and scored another goal, pissing him off enough that his rant about the logistics of a threesome was effectively ended. I had avoided thinking about the previous morning long enough that I had managed not to examine my feelings too thoroughly yet, and I’d prefer to keep it that was as long as possible.


	6. Chapter 6

“I’ve got a present for you.” Not-Harry smiled when I dropped into my seat at the back of the room the next morning.

“Is it tea? Because Niall didn’t wake me up until about three minutes ago.” I yawned.

“Okay, I have two presents for you.” he chuckled, passing me a paper cup from the student union.

“Bless you,” I sighed, cupping it between my hands. “Continue, then.”

"I've downloaded all the footage for your video." He beamed.

"You're kidding." I perked up immediately. "Wait. How baked do I look?"

"You look perfect." He chuckled, cheeks tinged with pink.

“I don’t believe you, but I appreciate the effort.” I chuckled.

“You can come over and see for yourself after class if you’re not busy?” he suggested. “I’ve got to get you the files anyways. Unless you want me to help you edit it. Then we can just do it at mine.”

“Thanks,” I smiled fondly, “But you’ve already done way too much. Niall and I can handle the editing.”

“You know where to find me if you change your mind.” he gave me that dimpled smile and my insides melted a bit.

 

Harry was sitting on a barstool in the kitchen when we entered the Styles home after class. His hair was messy and his eyes were heavy. Tired.

“Do something with your hair, for God’s sake, Haz.” Not-Harry smirked, ruffling it even more as he circled behind him on his was to the fridge. “Anything to drink, Louis?”

“I’m okay.” I shook my head before turning to smirk at Harry. “And don’t touch the hair. It’s sexy.”

Harry’s dimples popped around a spoonful of cereal and he shot me a wink. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before finally greeting me. “Good morning. What are you two up to?”

“He says he’s got all my footage from the weekend ready for me.”

“Really?” Harry perked up, turning to his brother. “Can I see?”

“‘Course.” Not-Harry nodded. “Come on.”

Harry dumped his bowl in the sink and we both followed his brother down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Did you tidy up for the occasion?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“Don’t you have study group?” Not-Harry retorted with pink tinged cheeks.

“Cancelled.” Harry replied cheerfully.

Not-Harry pulled the chair out from under his desk and gestured for me to sit while kneeled on the floor beside me and brought up the files. Harry, though, sat on the arm of the chair and leaned over the back until his brother scowled at him. “You’re going to break my chair.”

“Fine.” he shrugged easily, sitting up and yanking me out of the seat before taking it himself and pulling me down onto his lap.

This was clearly not the result Not-Harry was hoping for, but he didn’t say anything. Only clicked around a few more times before he pulled up a folder full of video files.

“There’s a ton, like I said, but I can show you a few and you can look through the rest with Niall.” he clicked open a file and we watched as Not-Harry and I did a shot together before collapsing into a fit of giggles and hanging all over each other. Then one where we were in the kitchen. I was sitting on the counter and he was leaning next to me. It was taken when he was telling me about Nick, but it looked much more intimate than it had felt in the moment.

“What’s that one?” I asked, pointing to another. I hoped there were more than just me and the boys.

“Liam’s body shots.” he laughed, clicking the video and showing Harry licking a stripe up the center of Liam’s abs as Zayn rolled his eyes in the background.

There was a video of Niall doing an Irish jig on the coffee table before falling off and attempting the worm on the floor before giving up entirely and lying face down in the rug until Zayn came and pulled him up, giving him a hug and taking him to find another drink. There was another of Gemma dancing with the Teasdale Twins, jumping and head banging like they were at a 2004 emo show.

“She’s still an emo kid at heart.” Harry chuckled, leaning forward against my back to get a better view of the screen. “What’s that one?” he asked, pointing to another video.

I clicked on it, having deemed Not-Harry too slow and taken over control of the mouse, and we watched Harry spin me round the coffee table in a perfect waltz, as Not-Harry and Niall spun around behind us in a terrible impression of our incredible skill.

“If this were a dance off, we would definitely have won.” I smirked, fist bumping Harry over my shoulder as I smirked at his brother. “You’re terribly uncoordinated, Kid.” I added with a little pout.

“Don’t even get me started. I have a whole file dedicated to Harry’s falls.”

“Heeyyyy!” Harry drawled in that slow way he had. “You said you deleted that!”

“Never know when you’ll need blackmail.” Not-Harry shrugged, clicking open another folder. And clicking the first video file inside.

“Oh my God.” I early shouted, pushing Harry’s hands away from my eyes when he tried to cover them. He groaned and buried his face in my back, wrapping his arms securely round my middle.

“What is this?” I asked, watching as the Harry on the screen skipped across a stage.

“The drama department had a variety show last term. Harry was like, the host. He announced all the acts and told terrible jokes to kill time while they changed out sets and everything.”

“AHH!!” I shouted, covering my face with both hands as Harry ate it on stage. “Go back!” I exclaimed, leaning forward to drag the time back a few seconds. “What even happened?” I laughed.

Harry picked up his mic stand and walked down along the stage, and the next second he was flying backwards like he’d been shot out of a slingshot.

“It was shoddy craftsmanship.” he mumbled into the back of my neck. “There was a loose flap and my stand got caught.”

I was absolutely rolling with laughter. My eyes streamed with tears and my side ached with mirth. “It was like a cartoon!” I panted, “You almost caught yourself, and then BOOM! Down you go!”

Harry growled and stood up dumping me off his lap onto the floor and then straddled my stomach, effectively pinning me to the floor. “You almost caught yourself,” he mimicked me in a high voice, “Them BOOM!”

I opened my mouth with a smart ass remark on the tip of my tongue, only to squeal with laughter when his fingers dug into my ribs. “NOOOO!!!”

“Take it all back!” he laughed, leaning over and shaking his hair in my face.

“Help me!” I screamed, reaching blindly for Not-Harry, connecting with his hard chest and fisting my hand in the front of his t-shirt.

“He can’t help you! He’s the reason you’re in this mess!”

“HEEELLLPPP!!!”

“You called _me_ uncoordinated first!” Not-Harry laughed, joining his brother in tickling me mercilessly.

I don’t know how it happened. One minute I’m trying not to wee myself and the next, Harry’s body is shifting and he’s sitting on my cock. And it’s hard.

His fingers stilled and his eyes darkened and suddenly he was shifting down to straddle my thighs, hands resting casually on my hips. “One almost threesome and suddenly you’re insatiable.” He smirks, eyes flicking to his brother for just a moment before settling back on mine.

“There’s no way this can end well.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“What do you mean?” Not-Harry leaned into my view with a small frown and lust filled eyes.

“We can’t keep hooking up like this… All three of us?” I ran my hand over my face with a sigh. “Someone’s going to get hurt.”

The boys were silent for a moment before Harry caught my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Did you have fun last time?”

“Come on, Haz,” I scoffed. “That can’t be a serious question.”

“Then don’t think too hard right now. Just enjoy it.” Not-Harry whispered as he bent down and claimed my lips in a Spiderman kiss full of expectations and lust.

I couldn’t help it. I was powerless to his effects and putty under his touch. The hands on my hips squeezed gently and then suddenly there were lips on the small strip of exposed skin above my joggers. A tongue swirled through the hair below my bellybutton and a palm traced the firm line of my cock through two layers of cotton.

I moaned at the touch and Not-Harry took full advantage, swiping his tongue into my mouth with a small moan. My hands reached blindly, snaking up the front of his shirt, exploring the smooth planes of his chest and the swell of his love handles.

Harry nipped at my hipbone and I gasped, unconsciously bucking my hips and getting a low chuckle in response. He squeezed my cock and teased at the top on my joggers without making any real move to remove them.

Not-Harry was kneeling above my head, his knees next to my ears as he leaned down to kiss me breathless. And if we were going to do this, I’d be damned if we didn’t do it right.

“C’mere.” I mumbled against his lips, tugging at his belt impatiently. “Wanna taste you.”

Not-Harry let out a deep growl before sitting up and opening up the bottom half of his body to my wandering hands. His cock was straining against the zipper of his jeans, and we just couldn’t have that, could we? He sighed with relief as I unzipped his jeans and reached inside to give him a squeeze. And another squeeze on my own cock brought my attention back to Harry. He had been slowly stroking my through my joggers -- enough to tease me, but not giving me enough friction to work with. I groaned and squeezed the rod in my hand as my hips bucked up into Harry’s big hands.

His green eyes met mine with an intense stare as he tugged on the waistband of my joggers and I lifted my hips to help him out as he pulled them down to my knees. I hissed as the cool air hit my warmed and throbbing flesh, and Harry smirked up at me as he wrapped his ridiculously large hand round my shaft.

Not-Harry groaned and thrust into my hand, reminding me, once again, that I had more going on than my own pleasure. Jesus, this was a lot to wrap my head around.

“Down, now.” I panted, yanking on the waistband of his jeans. He shoved them down his legs in one fluid motion and his erection bobbed free directly above my face. “Jesus Christ.” I didn’t know if I was groaning at the impressive cock bouncing six inches over my face, or if it was Harry’s hand stroking languidly up and down my shaft, twisting gently each time he reached the head before slowly sinking back down. What a fucking tease.

“Turn round.” I murmured, reaching up to stroke his length a couple of times. I grinned up at him as he practically leapt into position straddling my chest and leaning forward on his hands and knees to present me with his leaking member. 

“Fuck, Lou.” he sighed, as I circled him with my hand and leaned up to wrap my lips around his head.

I hummed at the taste of him -- sweet just like him -- and swirled my tongue around the tip, lapping up the precum pooled there before swallowing half of him on my first plunge.

...If you’d call it a plunge. This was quite possibly the worst position I’d ever been in. My neck was straining every time I sank down (up?) on his cock, but I was too overwhelmed to try and figure out something else. Harry, the bastard, was still just teasing me, stroking me slow and steady, almost as if we were boring him. And Not-Harry, bless his heart, was so far gone, I don’t think even _he_ knew his name at the moment.

Harry squirmed in my lap and I knew he was probably feeling left out, but I just couldn’t focus on them both at once. I heard the zip on his jeans being tugged down and moaned at the thought of him getting himself off, from getting _me_ off.

I reached out past Not-Harry and gripped Harry, digging my fingertips into the pudge of flesh at his hip. Then there was a new sensation. A hard cock pressed against mine, both circled by a large hand and jerked more firmly, finally giving me the friction I needed in the best way.

I pulled off Not-Harry and dropped my head back to the floor with a loud moan, reaching up blindly with my free hand to jerk him quickly in time with Harry’s flying fist. Not-Harry came seconds later, ropes hitting my chin and neck and dribbling down onto my black t-shirt. I arched my back and thrusted into Harry’s fist as his brother collapsed on the carpet beside us, drawing a loud moan from his lips as we finally locked eyes. 

And we both shattered at the same time.

“Fuck my life.” I panted, tossing an arm over my face.

“That’s exactly what a man wants to hear after something like that.” Harry chuckled as he flopped down beside me.

“You boys will be the death of me.”

“Hope not.” Not-Harry sat up to smirk down at me and pushed my hair up off my sweaty forehead. “Your mouth is way too amazing to go to waste.”

 

I had to borrow a t-shirt to make it home. Harry gave me the one right off his own back and smirked when it nearly swallowed me whole. I hooked up with the two of them two more times over the next few days, both times I’d started out hanging out with one twin, before the other joined us, and we quickly collapsed into a pile of hands and mouths and cocks. I knew it would end badly. I knew we couldn’t keep avoiding the inevitable. Eventually, I would have to choose one of them, or neither of them. However it went, I could not keep stringing both boys along l the way I was -- unintentional as it was.

And Friday night only emphasized that fact.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about your hair,” Niall smirked from the door to my bathroom. “You’ve got two guys on the line, and I don’t think they’re going anywhere.”

“First off,” I paused in my hair mussing to glare at him through the mirror. “I prefer to look my best _regardless_ of my relationship status.” Niall rolled his eyes, recognizing the lie for what it was, and I continued. “And secondly, whatever this is that’s going on between us, is definitely not going to last forever. It can’t.”

“As long as you’re aware.” he shrugged.

I changed the subject and kept him occupied with talk of a new song we’d been working on until we reached the pub. The other boys were already there, sipping pints at a table near the back. We waved at them as we headed for the bar for drinks of our own and Niall leaned in as we waited for the bartender to notice us.

“If you’re trying not to break anyone’s heart, maybe you should focus a bit on each of them individually tonight and try to make a decision.”

I sighed and dropping my hand to my hip. “You think I haven’t been trying?”

“I think having two gorgeous boys snogging you has been a bit of a distraction.” he shrugged. I hadn’t given him any details about my recent experiences, but clearly he was assuming something was going on. “Maybe don’t hook up with anyone tonight. Just… spend some time, I don’t know.”

I knew he was right. I knew I needed to make a choice as soon as possible, even if that meant breaking the heart of someone I truly cared about, either way. It was just… hard.

The boys were sat on opposite sides of the table when we reached them, each with an open seat beside them. Not only did I have the big decision of which boy to love plaguing my mind, but apparently I also had to choose a seat. Because my life wasn’t fair.

Niall -- the best fucking mate that he is -- rushed past me and threw his arms around Harry before dropping into the seat beside him, making my immediate decision for me. I could have kissed him.

Not-Harry grinned and pulled me in for a one armed hug as I took the seat beside him and I forced a smile. It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy to see him. I just had too much on my mind.

“Harry was just telling us they announced what the school play is going to be!” Liam explained with a crinkled smile.

“What is it?” I perked up.

“Wizard of Oz.” he grinned.

“PLEASE tell me you’re going to be the lion.” I begged.

Harry burst out in laughter while the rest of the boys nodded enthusiastically. “You were _born_ to be the Cowardly Lion!” Niall exclaimed.

“I don’t know if that was supposed to be a compliment or not.” Harry giggled before shrieking when Niall’s hands fisted in his hair.

“Look at these curls! You’re already there!” he growled.

Harry batted him off with pink cheeks and gave us a shrug. “I’ll have to learn his song, but, yeah, that’s actually what I was thinking.”

I held up my phone that I’d been tapping away at during Niall’s outburst and smirked. “Sheet music for _If I Only Had the Nerve_! We can start practicing whenever you’re ready!”

“You’re really going to help me practice?” he blushed, dimples carving craters in each cheek.

“Course!” I rolled my eyes. “I thought we’d established that’s what we all do for each other. When are auditions?”

“Next Friday.”

Niall threw an arm round his shoulders and leaned in to speak directly to him. “Come round next week and we’ll run your lines and sing your songs with you. I’ll be Dorothy.”

Harry beamed and leaned his head on Niall’s shoulder. “You’ll be the best Dorothy.”

Over the next hour or so, we had three more rounds of pints and a couple of shots a piece. We were all beginning to feel it, and we were having fun. Harry had recommended a pub Niall and I hadn’t ever been to. It didn’t have karaoke -- which usually meant we’d nix it right away -- but it had games all over. Pool and ping pong (and beer pong) and darts and cornhole out back in what was definitely an alley at one point. Harry and I were playing cornhole against Liam and Not-Harry in the back alley while Niall and Zayn chatted to a girl Niall knew from one of his classes, when I decided I needed a wee and told Zayn to take my place.

“You want to see me throw a beanbag round?” he arched an eyebrow at me and took another drag of his cigarette.

“Just hold down the fort until I come back!” I ordered as I rushed off.

The pub had gotten much busier in the half hour we’d been outside and it took me forever to get to the hallway leading off to the toilets, but I got lucky and there wasn’t a line for the men’s. I did my business, and turned to wash my hands as the door opened behind me.

I glanced up and got a quick glimpse of one of the twins before the lights went out. Then there was the distinct _click_ of the lock.

I turned with and frown and ran into a firm chest in the pitch black of the room. “Oops.” he chuckled, looping his arms around me to keep me from tumbling to the dirty floor.

“Hi.” I laughed nervously. I wasn’t even positive which twin was cornering me, I didn’t know what to say. Or do.

His hands slid down to my hips as he backed me up against the edge of the sink and his nose nudged my jaw as he exhaled a warm, beer soaked breath against my neck.

“What are you--” I was cut off with a kiss, and despite my resolve to not hook up tonight, I couldn’t resist. I sank into him, arms looping round his neck, pressing our bodies together and sighing into his kiss.

If I thought I could tell which twin it was by the way he kissed, I’d be wrong. These kisses were different than any I’d shared with either of them before. While the kisses I’d shared with Not-Harry were demanding and sexy like this, he tended to nibble on my lips, and there were no teeth involved here. Harry tended to be a much slower kisser.He took his time. He was gentle and sweet, even when we were coming apart at the seams. These were demanding and sexy, but also, somehow sweet and gentle.

They were desperate, yet intimate. A weird mix of both twins. It was making me dizzy.

I broke away, panting and he moved to my neck, sucking and teasing his way down to my collarbone where he moaned. “You’re amazing.” he murmured before dropping to his knees.

“Fuck!” I gasped as he ran a hand over the bulge in the front of my jeans.

He shoved my t-shirt up out of the way and feathered a trail of kisses from my sternum down to my bellybutton. Then his hands were undoing my button, tugging at my zipper and yanking my jeans down my thighs.

I moaned when his big hand wrapped round my shaft and gripped the edge of the sink behind me. He jerked me quickly as he nibbled on the crease of my hip. “We don’t have much time.” he mumbled against my over sensitive skin.

“Not gonna last long at this point.” I admitted tightly.

I felt his lips curve up into a smirk against my hip before he leaned away. His hand gripped the base of my shaft and a warm tongue circled the head before it was engulfed completely by those plump lips I’d been dreaming about for weeks.

His hands slid around to my bum, palming it with both hands and he moaned, sending vibrations all the way down to my toes. After a couple of shallow thrusts, he sank down completely, nose pressed into my belly and stars erupted in my vision.

My hands dropped to his head and buried themselves in those amazing curls. Harry’s curls, I was sure of it… But wait. Not-Harry had worn his hair down tonight, hadn’t he? Fuck.

 _Fuck_ , whoever it was had an amazing mouth. Honestly, exquisitely, beautiful. My fists tightened, reflexively in his hair and a deep moan escaped his throat. He liked that. Fuck, he liked it.

He was using his hands on my arse as leverage as he fucked his throat with my cock, and I wasn’t sure if I’d survive it. I was humping into his mouth, moaning uncontrollably, louder than I’d ever been, and there was nothing I could do about it. We’d been locked in there long enough that I knew there must be a line outside. I knew they could hear me hear me if there was. But I just couldn’t stop.

One of his hands dropped from my bum, and he moaned. My left hand dropped to his shoulder, and confirmed my suspicions. His shoulder was tense, jerking in rhythm with each thrust of my hips.

“Fuck, yes!” I gasped, gripping his t-shirt in my fist and tugging on his hair with my other hand. “Cum for me, love, please!” I pled. I was so close, knees so wobbly. I needed him to come. I needed it more than I needed air.

He moaned around my cock, and his shoulder tensed, but his head didn’t stop bobbing, and I followed him into orbit, breaking through the atmosphere, bouncing round the stratosphere and finally floating back down to earth.

I collapsed back against the sink and my Mystery Twin did up my jeans for me, got to his feet and washed his hands, then finally turned to me in the dark room. My eyes had finally adjusted just enough to make out the rough shape of his shoulders and head as he reached for my face, cupping my cheek gently.

“Is this you stepping up your game?” I asked breathlessly, blinking up at him in the dark.

“No,” he murmured, leaning in. “This is me having you to myself, just once. Just in case you don’t choose me.” Then his lips caught mine in the softest kiss I’d ever received. There was no tongue. No desperation or lust. Just this sweet intimacy that I’d never experienced with anybody before. No boyfriend, no one night stand or friend with benefits. Nothing I’d ever experienced in my life compared to that one, soft kiss in a dark toilet in a pub.

But before I could even wrap my head around it, he was gone. The lights were on, my vision was absolutely shot, and my Mystery Twin was nowhere to be seen.

I stood there like an idiot until my vision had adjusted and I thought my legs could carry my weight, before turning back to the sink and washing my hands. I splashed my face with water and dried my hands, and just as someone came in to have a wee, I slipped out past them.

I weaved through the pub until I caught sight of Niall by the bar and rushed to his side.

“Hey mate!” he beamed, looping an arm round my shoulders.

“Hey… Where is everybody?” I asked casually. He was leaned on the bar chatting with that blonde he’d run into from his class and the rest of the boys were nowhere to be seen.

“Harry and Zayn are over there.” he pointed to the other end of the bar and I found them tossing back shots before Harry’s gaze caught mine. He sent me a wide grin and a big, drunken wave before reaching for his pint on the bar and turning back to say something to Zayn who looked equally toasted. “And, er, think Liam and Not-Harry are playing pool.”

I craned my neck over the crowd and sure enough, Liam and Not-Harry were across the room laughing as they leaned over the table.

“What about ten minutes ago?” I prodded.

“Ten minutes ago, I was… in the loo.” Niall smirked, sipping at his pint in an attempt to hide it.

“No you weren’t! I was!” I exclaimed. 

“I was in the other one.” he amended, shooting a meaningful look at the blushing girl beside him. For God’s sake, I was about to have a meltdown and he was off hooking up in a toilet.

“I should get back to my friends.” The girl shot Niall a coy smile and gave his arm a squeeze before reminding him to give her a call, and wandering off into the crowd.

He watched her go for a moment before turning back to me with a creased brow. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean…”I fish mouthed for a moment before sighing in defeat. “I think I just fell in love.”

“With who? Which one?” he asked excitedly, before noticing my expression becoming steadily more and more distraught as the seconds passed.

“I don’t know.”

Before he could press for anymore details or explanations, Zayn and Harry appeared beside us with a couple of shots, and we were roped back into the madness of the evening. They dragged us over to the pool table where the boys taught Niall and me a drinking game they’d invented involving pool that got them all very drunk very quickly.

And while they kept drinking, I slowed down a bit. I watched the twins. I tried to figure out which one had been in the toilets with me. My Mystery Twin had been wearing a t-shirt, which at the time had made me think it was Harry, who was wearing a black t-shirt but at some point throughout the night, Not-Harry had apparently gotten warm and removed his denim button up shirt. He had it tied around his waist now and was wearing a black Pink Floyd t-shirt underneath. He couldn’t have jerked off with sleeves hanging down in front, could he?

But realistically, of the two boys, Not-Harry was more likely to doubt his chances, wasn’t he? He’d said as much himself, from the beginning. So had his friends, in fact.

I just couldn’t figure it out. Everything about that encounter had been so different than any other I’d ever had with either boy. I felt like I’d finally seen the real boy underneath, for once, and I didn’t realize how much I’d been waiting for that. If only I knew which one had finally shown me himself.

Half an hour later, Niall threw an arm round my shoulders and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You ready to get out of here?”

I arched an eyebrow at him in question and he shrugged. “Might be a good idea to call it a night before anyone invites you home.” he explained quietly.

I sighed. “Good idea.” Especially after night I’d had. One of the boys had gone behind the other’s back to get me alone. How was I supposed to face them both together again, after that?

“Let’s say goodbye, yeah?” he nodded towards the other boys and led the way.

I reached Harry first and leaned in to speak to him over the noise of the pub. “We’re going to head out.”

He nodded and wrapped me in a hug. “I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too,” I nodded when I pulled back. “Let me know when you wanna practice your Lion song.” I added with a smirk.

Harry grinned and dropped a kiss to my cheek. “Definitely. Thank you.”

I turned to give Not-Harry a hug, only to find him pouting at me. “Don’t go!” he whined with a drunken laugh. “The night is young!”

“And so are you!” I laughed, “You stay and have fun. I’m an old man who needs some sleep.”

He gave me a big dramatic sigh before pressing a lingering kiss to my cheek. “See you soon?”

“Yeah, course.” I nodded, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before moving on to say goodbye to Zayn and Liam.

When I turned to find Niall again, I found him with his face buried in Harry’s neck. “I miss you already.” Harry was saying with a pout.

“I’ll call you, I promise!” Niall exclaimed, leaning up to kiss Harry’s dimpled cheek. Then he spun on his heel and looped his arm through mine, waving at the rest of the boys over his shoulder as he led me through the crowd to the door.

 

“Spill.” he ordered as soon as we dropped onto the couch. It had been our Friday night ritual for three years. Go out and get smashed, then come home and play FIFA until we passed out. But tonight, he didn’t touch the tv. “What happened in the bathroom? How did you fall in love?” he asked, all business.

“I got a blowjob--” I began, only for Niall to groan and roll his eyes dramatically.

“All that drama over a blow job?”

“No!” I groaned, “Let me finish!”

“Thought you already did.” he smirked.

“Fuck off.” I pouted, sagging back into the couch.

“Alight, alright, tell me what happened.” he chuckled, turning sideways and flopping down with his head in my lap.

I hadn’t been talking to Niall about the boys ever since I overheard him making bets with Liam and Zayn, but I needed advice from my best friend now. I sighed, and explained. “I went for a wee and when I finished, one of them came into the toilets, and before I could see who it was, he turned off the lights.”

“Sounds sexy.” he wiggled his eyebrows up at me.

“I mean, it was.” I sighed. “But it was more than that. I’ve never had a hard time telling them apart. Their personalities are so different, even if they were dressed the exact same, I could spot who’s who from a mile away.”

He hummed in agreement, and I continued.

“This was different though. Everything that happened in that toilet tonight was so different from anything I’ve seen from either of them. He kissed differently, he touched me differently. He made me feel different than anybody has ever made me feel.”

“Maybe they’ve been playing us all along, and there’s actually a third one out there somewhere.” he grinned.

“Would it even surprise you at this point?” I groaned, running a hand over my face.

“I think it was Not-Harry.” he said, more seriously this time.

“Yeah?” I asked, arching an eyebrow down at him in my lap.

“I mean, you didn’t tell me much at the pub,” he shrugged, “But I kind of gathered you’d hooked up with one of them and didn’t know who.”

I made a scoffing noise in the back of my throat.

“I paid attention after that,” he continued. “They were both drunk, but Not-Harry was more… I don’t want to say _clingy_ because that sounds like a bad thing. He was just more handsy, I guess? More attentive to you? I don’t know. Harry definitely looked like he enjoyed being with you when he was interacting with you, but he wasn’t going out of his way to be near you like Not-Harry was.”

I remembered the way he led me through the crowd with a hand on the small of my back. How he always seemed to be next to me in a group of people. How he begged me not to leave. And I remembered how Harry kissed me goodbye, then whined that he’d miss _Niall_ as we were leaving. I hummed in agreement. “Maybe… Sometimes I thought it was Harry, but… I don’t know. The only thing he said to me the whole time was that he wanted to have me to himself just once in case I didn’t choose him. And Harry’s too confident for that, isn’t he? Not-Harry is the one who’s worried about not being chosen. Liam and Zayn even said so themselves, he always gets overlooked.”

Niall was quiet for a long moment, brow creased in thought. “Okay, forget the bet. Tell me everything. How long have you been fucking them? Who are you fucking exactly?”

“I’m not fucking either of them -- I mean, I haven’t. We haven’t. We’ve just… messed around. All three of us.”

“Always all three of you?” he asked. “You’ve never had a one on one with either of them?”

“Not before tonight, no.” I shook my head. “I wasn’t planning on hooking up with either of them until I’d made a decision, and then they kind of ambushed me one night, and both kissed me. And then the morning after the party, when we woke up, things just sort of happened. Now it seems like anytime I hang out with one of them, the other one shows up and things sort of just happen again.”

“And tonight? One of them cornered you and it was different.”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time since this conversation began. “It felt like I’d seen the real side of him. Whoever he was. Like… I mean, they’re basically competing for my affections, aren’t they? Am I really seeing the real side of either of them? They’re both just trying to impress me all the time. This time, it wasn’t about a competition. It was just about… having a moment together. I straight up asked him, Ni. I asked him if he was trying to step up his game, and he said no. He said he just wanted to be with me, for real, once.”

“And all he did was give _you_ a blowjob.” Niall shook his head in disbelief. “The man thinks he’s got one chance with you before you choose his brother and he focuses on getting _you_ off. That’s a special kind of guy.”

“I mean.” I shrugged, and pretended I wasn’t blushing. “He got off too.”

“Jesus, how long were you in the toilets?” he laughed.

“Not long.” I chuckled. “He kind of… did it himself.”

“Figure out which one it was, and _marry him._ ” he ordered with a smirk.

“How am I supposed to figure it out, though?” I asked, ignoring the jokes and getting back to the point.

He narrowed his eyes in thought for a moment. “I’ll text Ziam tomorrow and ask if they’ve figured out which one you’re doing.”

“WHAT?” I laughed, “ _Ziam_?”

“That’s what I call them.” he beamed.

“Whatever,” I grinned, “What do you mean you’ll ask if they’ve figured out who I’m doing? I told you, I’m not doing either of them!”

“Yeah, but Ziam and I have been trying to figure it out all week. I’ll ask them if they’ve gotten anything. Maybe whoever cornered you told someone.”

“If he told both of them it would get back to his brother.” I pointed out. “Ask them separately. If Harry was going to talk to anyone it would be Zayn. And Not-Harry would talk to Liam. But neither of them would talk to both of them if they were keeping it from each other.”

“Jesus, my head hurts.” Niall whined, covering his face with both hands. “But I know what you mean -- somehow. I’ll figure it out. In the meantime, tell them your best friend is feeling neglected and needs some Nouis football time.”

“ _Nouis_?” I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, what’s with the ship names?”

“Ziam started it. We’ve been calling you and Harry, Larry all week.”

“And what have you been calling me and Not-Harry?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

“Can’t tell you. It might give away his name.”

I groaned and threw my head back against the couch. “I told you all my secrets! Why are you still keeping this from me!”

“Not my secret, mate!” he beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long, work and life have been crazy lately. I hope the double dose of smut made up for the wait, just a little bit. There will be more and more from now on. ;)  
> Two things: 1. I LOVE Narry hugs. And 2. I hate trying to come up with names for penises. Don’t make fun of me!


	7. Chapter 7

I spent the rest of the weekend avoiding both twins, racking my brain trying to remember any tiny detail that might tell me more about whoever had cornered me in the bathroom that night. It was useless, though. It was just dark enough, I was just drunk enough, and he was just honest enough that I just couldn’t figure it out. My best guess came from Niall’s observations throughout the rest of the night, but even then, I wasn’t entirely confident it was Not-Harry. Not enough to confront either of them about it, at least.

Which was why I was surprised to see Not-Harry at my door Sunday evening.

“Hey,” I smiled, gesturing for him to come in, despite my inner turmoil.

“Hey,” he smiled shyly. “Sorry to just drop by like this. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“I was just working on an essay for History. You’re a welcome distraction, believe me.” I chuckled, leading him to the kitchen. If I was taking a break, might as well make it a dinner break. “What’s up?”

He shrugged as he leaned against the edge of the counter and I turned to dig through the cabinet. “I had plans tonight, but Liam ditched me for Zayn, so I suddenly found myself free.”

“What’s Harry up to?” I asked casually.

“Working for another hour or so.”

“I was thinking about making something for dinner,” I told him, pulling a box of Easy Mac from the back of the cupboard. “Hungry?”

“Sure.” he grinned, dimples popping.

I put on an episode of _How I Met You Mother_ and we sat on the living room floor and ate on the coffee table as we watched. It was nice. The show was funny, the food was mediocre, and the company was sweet. He looked over at me with a blush every time we laughed at the same joke and eventually, when we’d both pushed our empty bowls away, he caught my hand and laced our fingers together.

I leaned my head on his shoulder and he chuckled softly. “Do you remember the first time you did this?”

“Did what?”

“Laid on me like this.” he murmured.

“In class.” I nodded with a little smile.

“You thought I was Harry.” he nodded.

“I thought you were cute.” I corrected him.

“Sometimes I wonder if you only spoke to me because you thought I was a poorly dressed, early-morning version of him.”

“Opposite actually.” I sat up to look into his eyes when I admitted the truth. “Even if I learned Harry’s name first, it was you I _saw_ first. Stared at through an entire class, more like.” I added with a smirk. “It was just down to chance that he sat next to me in class the next day. And I thought _he_ was _you_.”

“Yeah?” he asked, lips pressed together to conceal that shy smile I couldn’t get enough of.

“That’s the truth.” I nodded, just before he leaned in and kissed me.

I opened my mouth to him when he traced my lower lip with his tongue and he sighed and deepened the kiss. His hand came up to cup my neck and both of mine fisted in the front of his t-shirt. He tilted my head to the side and moved to nibble along my jaw and down the column of my neck.

“Fuck, Louis.” he sighed against my heated skin. “Want you, so bad.”

I moaned in agreement and he took that as all the sign he needed to lay me down. He pinned me to the carpet in front of the couch and his hips slotted perfectly between my legs as he leaned down to suck a mark on my neck.

My back arched off the floor, and I had a moan on the tip of my tongue, when the front door opened and Niall’s deep laugh cut off suddenly.

“Fuck.” he swore, and I twisted my head to find him running a hand over his face as Harry stared down at the two of us with wide eyes.

“Harry!” I gasped, pushing his brother off of me and sitting up to look at him right side up.

“Sorry, didn’t realize you had company.” he winced. “I’ll just, er, get out of your hair, then. See you round.”

He ducked out before I could even think about replying, and I turned to find his brother frowning in annoyance. “He’s honestly, always had terrible timing.” he sighed before laughing and shaking his head in amusement.

“I’m sorry, I think I need to go talk to him.” I winced. “I can’t leave things like that.” I groaned and gripped my hair with both hands. “I _knew_ something like this would happen!”

“Shh, relax.” Not-Harry cooed, squeezing my knee reassuringly. “Go talk to him. I’ll see you in class tomorrow, yeah?”

I nodded as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to my cheek before pulling himself to his feet and leaving the apartment with a nod to Niall.

“Go find him.” Niall ordered as soon as the door shut behind him.

“Where do I even start?” I sighed. “You know he didn’t go home, after that.”

“Call him. No, he can ignore a phone call. Text him. Ask where he is. Tell him you’re coming.”

I ran to my bedroom to find some shoes as I tapped out a message on my phone.

_Me: Haz, I’m so sorry. I’m coming to find you, please tell me where you are?_

_Harry: Relax, I’m just at the park down the street._

_Me: Don’t go anywhere. I’m on my way._

I was out the door the moment I got my feet into a pair of Vans and skipped the lift, taking the stairs two at a time before bursting out the door and sprinting down the street. He was easy to find, sitting on a swingset in the dark, watching cars wait for the light at the intersection.

“Harry!” I gasped as soon as I was within earshot.

He turned away from the traffic light and rolled his eyes with a small smile as I pulled up in front of him and dropped my hands to my knees to catch my breath. “You didn’t have to run.” he chuckled. “You told me not to go anywhere, and I didn’t.”

“Harry! I‘m so sorry!” I exclaimed. “I swear it’s not whatever you were thinking, I swear we weren’t--”

“Lou, stop.” he cut me off with a wave of his hand. “Sit down before you pass out. I’m not going anywhere, just relax.”

I swallowed a gulp of air, and dropped onto the swing beside him with a groan. “I knew something like this would happen.” I sighed, “I knew we couldn’t keep messing around like we were without somebody getting hurt.”

“It’s okay, Lou.” he murmured, dropping his gaze to his feet where the toes of his boots were digging into the sand. “I’m not hurt.”

I scoffed bitterly. “I am.”

Harry chuckled and dropped his head back. “Alright, I kind of am. I won’t lie. But… It’s okay.”

“I wish you’d stop saying that.” I sighed. “It’s not okay, Harry.”

“I think you should choose him.”

“WHAT?” I exclaimed.

“I think you should choose my brother.”

“I heard you the first time. I’m just trying to wrap my head around why you’re telling me this _now_.”

“Because you were right.” he sighed, “We can’t keep going like we have been. You were right when you said it last week, and I was wrong to let it happen in the first place. I just… well. It doesn’t matter. I knew better, and I did it anyways.”

“We all did, Haz. It wasn’t just you.” I sighed.

“I know.” he lifted his gaze to give me a sad smile and shrugged. “I love spending time with you, Lou. And I was being honest when I said either way you choose, I’ll accept it. I want to be your friend. I don’t want to sacrifice our friendship or my relationship with my brother.”

“I don’t want that either.” I frowned. But I wasn’t sure I could honestly say I wanted him to be my friend. I had never wanted him to be my friend. I wanted him to be more than that. He meant more than that.

“This just seems like the easiest way.” Harry finished.

“There’s nothing easy about it, Harry.” I replied quietly, eyes on my shoes. They were two different colors. I was in such a hurry to get out of the flat -- to find Harry -- that I hadn’t even noticed. “You know he told me, tonight, that he thinks the only reason I started talking to him was because I thought he was you? If he thinks he’s only winning because you forfeited, he’s not going to be happy with that.”

“It’s not a competition,” He murmured softly. “I’ll talk to him.”

I swayed in my swing for a long moment. I didn’t want this conversation to end. Because as soon as it did, so did whatever I’d had with Harry.

“You don’t have to do this, H.” I finally sighed, unable to tear my eyes off the blue and green Vans on my feet.

“It’s the easiest way.” he repeated quietly. “He can make you happy.”

_You could make me happy._ I didn’t say that. I didn’t say anything. I just sat there as he walked away.

 

“What happened?” Niall shut the TV off and jumped up off the couch the second I walked in the door an hour later.

“He told me to date Not-Harry.”

“WHAT?”

“Said it was the easiest way.”

“Well… this is good, yeah? Now you don’t have to choose?”

I finally lifted my gaze to look at my best friend and I shrugged. “I, honestly, don’t know.” I whispered around a lump in my throat.

Niall’s arms were around me before the first tear fell, and he didn’t let me go until my alarm went off at seven thirty the next morning. He made me a cup of tea to-go while I got ready, and dropped a kiss to my cheek on my way out the door.

 

Somehow, I made it to class with five minutes to spare. There was no way I’d be able to avoid a conversation with Not-Harry, in the meantime.

He was already in our usual seats when I arrived and I dropped into the seat beside him. “Morning.” I yawned.

“Morning.” he beamed, placing a smallish white box on my desk. “Brought you something.”

I frowned down at the box for a moment before reaching for it and lifting the lid. My eyes widened and I looked up to find him blushing furiously.

“I woke up early and made a stop on my way.” he grinned.

“This looks amazing.” I smiled, pulling the purple frosted cupcake from its box.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I just got you my favorite. It’s lemon with blueberry buttercream.”

I peeled back the wrapper and took a bite, groaning at the heavenly taste. The perfect combination of sweet and tart, and the frosting was so, perfectly fluffy, I couldn’t believe it. “Is this from your work?” I asked as I licked a bit of frosting off my thumb.

“Yeah.” he smiled.

“Tell me again, why I’ve never come to visit you at work?” I deadpanned.

He shrugged, “You’re welcome to, any time.”

“I’ll remember that.” I chuckled, digging back into my cupcake as the lecture started.

When I leaned on Not-Harry’s shoulder a little later, he slid a piece of paper over to me with a note scribbled on it.

_Do you have plans tonight?_

_Not at the moment…_ I scribbled back.

_Would you like to go to dinner with me?_

_Are you asking me on a real date?!?!_

_Are you agreeing???_

I wanted to go. I wanted to date him for real. I just… also wanted to date his brother. But that wasn’t an option anymore, was it? He’d made his choice. It was time to make mine.

_Only if we can go see a movie, too. I’m not a cheap date._

_Should’ve known. Pick you up at seven?_

_It’s a date._

Not-Harry beamed up at me, and my heart fluttered. I could be happy with him. I _could_ be happy with either of them. _But, Harry had made his choice,_ I reminded myself again. It was time I stopped worrying about the boy who’d taken himself out of the equation and started enjoying the one who was making heart eyes at me in the middle of class.

I dropped a kiss to his shoulder before laying my head on it for the remainder of class.

“Seriously, you know we’re going to have to retake this class next term, don’t you?” I asked as we made our way outside after the lecture.

“Might pass if we take an afternoon class.” Not-Harry smirked in return, coming to a stop at the edge of the grass.

“One would hope.” I chuckled.

He smiled fondly down at me for a moment before sighing. “I’ve got to get going to work. But I’ll see you tonight?”

“I haven’t changed my mind.” I smiled, noting the uncertainty creasing his brow. “Should I dress fancy or casual?”

“Fancy.” He beamed.

“Does a tuxedo t-shirt count?”

Not-Harry stepped forward and dipped his head until his lips were hovering over mine. “You’ll look gorgeous, no matter what you wear.” he murmured before kissing me thoroughly.

He stepped back with a very Harry-like smirk and gave my hand a squeeze as he kept backing away. “Seven o’clock.”

“Don’t leave me waiting.”

 

Niall was on the couch when I got home. His thumb nail was between his teeth, and his brow was creased with worry.

“What happened?” I asked, dropping my bag by the door and crossing to his side.

“What do you mean, what happened? What happened with _you_? What happened with Not-Harry this morning?”

My lips curled into a smile all on their own and I sank back into the couch beside him. “He brought me a cupcake and asked me on a date. We’re going out tonight.”

“Yeah?” his eyebrows shot up into his hair.

“Why do you look so surprised?”

“I mean… I’m glad you’re happy, don’t get me wrong.” he hastened to clarify. “Just… you know. You spent the night crying over losing Harry, and now you’re going on a date with his brother?”

“I know,” I sighed. “And I’m still not sure about everything, completely. I just… Look, Harry took himself out of the equation. I can’t spend all my time chasing after him when I have another equally attractive, equally sweet and funny and incredible boy asking me on dates, especially when I’ve had an equally massive crush on him for an equally long time.”

“I get it,” he chuckled, “They’re equally amazing. I just don’t want you to rush into dating Not-Harry, just because Harry made the choice for you. Last night you weren’t sure what you wanted, and this morning you didn’t seem much clearer…”

He trailed off and I knew he was waiting for an explanation. “My whole problem was that I liked them both so much I couldn’t choose. I don’t feel like I’m settling for second best. I feel like I’m letting go of the one who let me go, and embracing the one who stuck around. I know I can’t expect Harry to stick around forever waiting on me to make a decision -- especially given what happened last night -- but the fact is, he gave up. He told me Not-Harry could make me happy and he walked away. Not-Harry showed up this morning with a sweet gesture and invited me out on a date. He deserves a chance, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just want you to be happy. As long as that’s the case, I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“Thanks, Ni.”

“Should I make plans so you can have the place to yourself afterwards?” he asked, arching an eyebrow in genuine question.

“It’s a first date!” I exclaimed, scandalized at the implication.

“With a bloke who sucked you off in a pub toilet last week.” he laughed. “I’ll make myself scarce, just in case.”

 

The best friend that he was, Niall helped me pick out an outfit for my date. I didn’t have any suitably fancy shirts -- tuxedo t-shirt or otherwise -- but he lent me a nice, blue button up that made my eyes pop. I rolled the sleeves to my elbows and put on my newest pair of black skinny jeans (the only pair that I hadn’t managed to rip yet) and my only pair of semi-dressy shoes, before doing my hair up in a quiff.

“Wow, look who cleans up nice!” Niall beamed when I emerged from my bedroom with ten minutes to spare.

“Very nice.” Another deep voice agreed from my left. I turned and found Not-Harry beaming at me from beside the window.

“When did you arrive?” I smiled, stepping up to him and giving his hand a little squeeze.

“Just a minute ago.”

“And my dear best friend didn’t tell me?” I arched an eyebrow over my shoulder at an unconcerned Niall.

“He was early. You figured it out, soon enough.” he shrugged. “Besides, I got my own date to get ready for.”

“WHAT?” I squawked. “You didn’t tell me you had a date!”

“You didn’t ask.”

“Who is it?” I demanded. “Is it that bird from the pub?”

“Nope. Go have fun. Be back by eleven or you’re grounded.” He leaned in and gave me a kiss on the forehead before skipping off to his bedroom without another word.

“You don’t really have to be back by eleven, do you?” Not-Harry smirked, drawing my attention back to him. His hair was up in it’s usual bun and he was wearing sleek black skinny jeans, paired with tan boots and a soft white button up shirt that hung loosely on his wide shoulders.

“You look amazing.” I sighed, lifting my gaze to his.

His cheeks tinged pink and he ducked his head with a shy smile before lifting his green eyes to mine again. “Thank you.”

“Ready to go?”

“Mhmm.” he hummed, reaching for my hand and leading me towards the door.

“Where are we going exactly?” I asked as we rode the lift down.

“Dinner.” he smirked.

“Any place in particular?”

“You like Italian?”

“Definitely.”

“Then, that’s where we’re going.” he smiled.

He led me out the front doors to a black Range Rover parked on the curb and I frowned as the lights flashed and the horn honked. “Is this yours?”

“Yeah. Robin gave it to me a few years ago when he got a new car.”

“I didn’t know you drove, let alone that you had a fancy car.” I scoffed as he opened the door for me. What a gentleman.

“I mostly walk everywhere at school.” he shrugged. “Cheaper than paying for a parking permit on campus.”

He shut the door and jogged round the front of the car before climbing in and turning down the radio as he started the car. I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and I was feeling a bit fidgety, so I messed with the dials, earning an amused chuckled from Not-Harry. I found a David Bowie song, and turned it back up with a grin. We sang along with the radio until we reached the restaurant, where we were led to a table near a window.

“This place is nice.” I commented as I looked around. The lighting was dim and intimate, and the window beside us overlooked the river and the London Eye in the distance.

“The garlic bread is amazing.” he smiled.

“What about the wine?” I asked with a mischievous grin.

Not-Harry chuckled as he reached for his menu. “Their house red is very nice.”

We ordered garlic bread and pasta and wine, and when I turned back to Not-Harry as the waiter left to put in our order, I found him smiling softly at me.

“I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.” he admitted quietly.

“I mean, the night is young, but I’m having fun so far,” I teased.

He laughed and took a sip of his water before continuing. “I mean, I wasn’t trying to start any drama with Harry when I came over last night. I just… wanted to see you. I guess, I didn’t really think it through. But it ended up working out in the end, right?”

“Yeah, I guess it did.” I chuckled a bit awkwardly. Technically he was right, but I still felt a little weird about it.

“When you said you needed to go after him…” he dropped his gaze to the table for moment before sighing and meeting my eyes again. “I figured, _this is it_. I knew when Harry got home, he’d either tell me I’d lost, or tell me I’d won. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings the way things happened, but I knew I had. And I knew he wouldn’t let it continue the way it was going, so… There was really only two outcomes of of the night. Either you’d tell him you’d chosen me, or he’d convince you to choose him. And I’m really happy with the way it turned out.”

“What exactly did he say to you last night?” I wondered aloud. “He told me he’d talk to you when he got home, then this morning you were ready to ask me on a date. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you did, but I was a little surprised, if I’m honest.”

He pressed his lips together in a bashful smile and shrugged. “Just that he told you that you should date me instead.” I was surprised at Harry’s honesty for about a second, before he continued. “He said he can see how happy you are with me, and that you aren’t like that when it’s just the two of you. That he thought you’d be better off as friends and that he was happy for me.”

“Wow. That was very mature of him.” I noted. And also just a little bit dishonest. Surely he didn’t really feel that way, did he? He hadn’t mentioned it last night. And I felt like he’d been pretty honest with me last night. He was hurt, and trying to do what was best for all of us.

“I don’t know if you would have chosen me if he hadn’t told you to, but… He swore he didn’t stand a chance...” he trailed off with a question in his eyes and a swallowed uncomfortably.

I was saved having to answer when the garlic bread and wine arrived, and I took a large gulp of my wine before digging into the bread. “So we’re doing this whole date thing for real,” I began, wiping my hands on the napkin in my lap. “Tell me something about yourself.”

“Um… I like to take pictures?” he shrugged.

“Something I don’t know, genius.” I laughed.

He thought for a moment as he chewed a mouthful of bread before his eyes lit up. “I can juggle!”

“No shit.” I gaped at him, ignoring the woman shooting me a glare from the next table. “Like what are we talking here, balls? Bottles? Flaming knives?”

“Um, pretty much anything that isn’t sharp or on fire.” he grinned. “I mostly do fruit, and get in trouble when I bruise mum’s apples.”

“That’s adorable.” I grinned.

“What about you? Any secret talents you haven’t shared with the class?”

“Hmm…” I considered for a moment. “I’m not a terrible footballer.”

“That’s what you were doing with Niall this weekend?”

“Yeah. We usually have a kick about on Sundays, but we’ve missed the last few with everything that’s been going on, so it was good to get out again.”

“Sorry we’ve invaded on your football schedule.” He grinned.

“No you’re not.” I laughed.

Dinner was amazing. The pasta was perfect, the wine was delicious, and Not-Harry was a perfect gentleman. I might have been just a teeny bit drunk as we made our way back out to the car, hand in hand. I swung our hands and skipped along, while Not-Harry laughed and shook his head as he tried to keep up.

“You’re ridiculous.” He beamed as we neared the car.

“If you want to be my boyfriend, you’re going to have to get used to it.” I smirked over my shoulder.

Not-Harry pulled me to a stop at the passenger door and turned me around. He pulled me closer so our chests were almost touching -- mine heaving with the exertion of my enthusiastic skip down the sidewalk -- and looked down into my eyes with a soft smile. “Is that what you want? For me to be your boyfriend?”

I scoffed. “Excuse me sir, I don’t even know your name!”

“‘Spose I should introduce myself before asking you to enter into a committed relationship, yeah?” he asked thoughtfully before letting a grin break through.

“You’re finally going to tell me your real name?” I asked with wide eyes.

“You wanna know?” he teased, “Maybe I’ll string you along a bit longer.”

“Don’t tell me.” I suddenly blurted.

“What?!” he exclaimed, throwing his head back on a laugh, “Why not?”

“It’ll be weird.” I admitted with a sheepish grin. “Like when your dad has a beard your whole life and then suddenly shaves it off.”

“I’m a beard?” he laughed cheekily.

“I was really curious at first. I badgered Neil for answers for days and whined to Harry in class. But now…” I trailed off with a shrug.

“Now, what?” he chuckled lowly, pulling me just a bit closer and dropping his hands to my hips.

“Now I’ve got my own name for you, don’t I?”

“You’d rather call me Not-Harry forever?”

“Kind of.” I laughed. “At least until I decide otherwise. At the moment, I just can’t imagine calling you anything else.”

“Including ‘Boyfriend?’” he asked quietly, dipping his head so his lips hovered just above mine.

“I might be able to get used to that.” I smirked before closing the distance.

We stood there kissing beside the car, under the lights of the city until a car honked at us to move out of the way so they could pull into the spot we were blocking. We gave them a quick wave of apology before Not-Harry opened my door for me and rushed around to his side while the impatient car pulled in beside us.

“We might be late for our movie.” he grinned as he crossed the bridge to the other side of the river.

“Wait, what movie are we seeing?” I demanded. “Why haven’t I been consulted on this?”

“Because, I had an idea that I thought you might like.” he shrugged. “If you hate it, we can go somewhere else and you can choose whatever movie you want.”

“Alright, alright, what’s your plan, then, Boyfriend?”

Not-Harry’s cheeks flared pink and he reached over the console to squeeze my knee. I caught his hand as it retreated and laced our fingers together on the center console. “You’ll see.” he grinned. “We’re almost there.”

Just as I was about to protest, claiming I hated surprises for the sole purpose of annoying him, he parallel parked against the curb and cut the engine.

“Told you.” he smirked, as if he knew my plan. And, yeah. He probably did. “Come on.”

I met him on the sidewalk where he led me down the block to the old cinema that played classic films. According to the marquee, _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_ was playing tonight.

“What do you think?” he asked with a tinge of uncertainty. “ _Breakfast at Tiffany’s_? Or would you rather--”

“No.” I cut him off with a squeeze to his hand. “I love it.”

He beamed and leaned down to press a kiss to my temple before nodding towards the ticket window. “Come on, then. It’s starting, like, now.”

He refused to let me pay for the tickets or the popcorn and large drink we planned to share -- even though we were both still stuffed from dinner. We made it to our seats towards the back just as the previews were ending and the main event began.

It was a movie my mum had always loved, and with so many sisters in the house, I’d seen it a million times, but to be honest, I loved it too. Even if the movie had sucked, I had too many memories that revolved around it. I had to love it.

My _boyfriend_ , Not-Harry, held my hand through the whole movie, only moving it around my shoulders when I teared up near the end when Holly threw Cat out of the taxi. That part always got me.

 

When we arrived back to my flat, Not-Harry got out of the car and walked me upstairs. We paused outside my door, and he scuffed his toe on the floor. “I had fun tonight.” he murmured, lifting his gaze to meet mine with a shy smile.

“Think I’ve got some ice cream, if you don’t want it to end, quite yet.” I suggested with an arched brow.

“Is there really ice cream in your freezer?” he asked with a suspicious smirk.

“Definitely not.” I laughed. “We haven’t done the shopping in over a week. But...” I shrugged, “The offer’s still open.”

“After you.” he grinned.

We wandered into my living room, where I kicked off my shoes, and dropped onto the couch.

“So… When are you going to play that for me?” he smirked, nodding at my keyboard where I’d left it on the dining table earlier in the day.

I huffed a laugh and shrugged. “What do you want to hear?”

He pressed his lips together and shrugged not-so-non-chalantly. “One of your songs?”

I narrowed my eyes at him in amusement before reaching for Niall’s guitar leaned against the couch beside me. “Quit hovering over there and have a seat, then.” I laughed, strumming a chord once I’d got into position.

“You didn’t tell me you played guitar, too!” he exclaimed with wide eyes.

“I _really_ don’t.” I laughed. “I know a couple of chords, but I’m much better on piano. And that’s not saying much.”

“To be determined.” he cut in with a smirk.

“Yeah, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “I can play this song, though. Roughly. We wrote it in our first ever songwriting class. We had an assignment to write a bop with tweens as a target audience, so. You know. Don’t laugh.” I finished with a chuckle of my own.

“Promise, I won’t.” he nodded.

I began plucking the chords to one of the only complete songs I could play on guitar and smirked before belting out the words.

“ _You’re insecure, don’t know what for  
You’re turning heads when you walk through the door  
Don’t need makeup to cover up  
Being the way that you are is enough  
Everyone else in the room can see it,  
Everyone else but you!_”

Not-Harry threw his head back on a laugh as I started in on the chorus, until he heard the actual words.

“ _Baby you light up my world like nobody else  
The way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed  
But when you smile at the ground it ain’t hard to tell  
You don’t know, oh oh  
You don’t know you’re beautiful!_”

I grinned as Not-Harry dropped his gaze to his lap with that signature shy smile and burst out in laughter when he realized, blushing as his eyes popped back up to mine.

“You’re adorable.” I sighed, abandoning the song and leaning into his side.

“You’re amazing.” he murmured in return, nudging my temple with his chin. I looked up at him and he caught my lips in a soft kiss that had me sliding Niall’s guitar off of my lap.

I cupped his cheek in my hand and traced my tongue across his full lower lip, asking permission, only for him to pull back.

“Last time we did this, we were interrupted pretty quickly.” he reminded me before pressing another soft peck to the corner of my mouth.

“Maybe we should relocate?” I suggested, even though I knew Niall didn’t plan to come home tonight.

Not-Harry bit his lip and nodded, getting to his feet and pulling me along with him to my bedroom. He pressed me up against the bedroom door the moment it closed behind us and I gasped as he assaulted my mouth with the kind of kiss I’d been chasing on the couch.

I groaned when his hands found my bum and he squeezed. “Wanted you so long.” he breathed against my neck, “Fuck, Louis…” 

“Bed.” I mumbled, pushing against his broad chest.

He dragged me with him as he spun and pushed me down onto the bed before climbing on after me. “God, you’re so gorgeous, you know that?” he asked as he lowered his body on top of mine. He was at least half hard and I was quickly catching up.

“Speak for yourself.” I sighed, arching up against him. I needed closer. I needed friction. I needed to be touched.

Apparently, Not-Harry needed the same. He ground down against me and his hands started on the buttons of my shirt.

I groaned and thrust my hands up under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his back as he kissed down my neck. His lips clamped down on my collarbone, nibbling and sucking until I knew there’d be a bruise.

I whined and pushed him back, yanking on the front of his shirt when I could get to it. “Off.” I ordered.

“Off.” he returned, spanking my hip.

“Move.” I panted, kicking him out from between my legs and working at my tight jeans as he stripped himself of his own clothing.

I flung my unbuttoned shirt away and kicked my jeans and briefs onto the floor before rolling over to reach for the drawer where I stored my condoms and lube.

“ _Fuck,_ Louis…” Not-Harry growled, palming my bum with both hands. He leaned over me as my hand wrapped around a foil wrapper in the depths of the drawer and I arched back into his touch.

His lips landed on my shoulder blade -- hands still kneading the globes of my ass -- and he sucked another bruise there before moving down. His tongue left me shivering as he licked a stripe all the way down to the cleft of my bum before taking a healthy bite out of my left cheek.

I gasped, spreading my legs just a bit in invitation, only to feel him sit up, spreading my cheeks with a squeeze of his hands. “Lube?” he panted.

I was suddenly reminded of the reason I was hanging half off the bed in the first place, and continued my rummaging until I found the bottle of lube I kept there. I tossed it, and the condom over my shoulder and immediately heard the click of the cap being opened.

“Wanted this for so long.” he sighed as he ran a cool, slick finger across my waiting hole. “You’ve been teasing me with those tight jeans for weeks, haven’t you?” he murmured huskily.

I chuckled breathlessly, gasping as his finger pressed against my entrance. “Yesss!”

“Time I returned the favor, you think?” he asked, withdrawing his finger.

“No!” I whined, swatting blindly behind me until he returned.

He let out a low chuckle and pressed in about halfway before pausing to twist and wiggle me open. “So tight, baby.” he whined.

“Been a while.” I panted into the pillow my face was buried in.

“ _Fuck _, me too. Need you so much.” he breathed as he pumped his finger in and out of me.__

__“More,” I begged. “Please!”_ _

__He added another finger, twisting and scissoring them until he was up to three before pulling out completely and reaching for the lube again._ _

__I fidgeted on the mattress, desperate to be touched, filled, and fucked._ _

__And then he was there. Leaning over me, pressing into me. Pausing when I whined, and pushing forward when I arched back into him. It was frantic and desperate and the one of best things I’d ever felt._ _

__I collapsed into a panting, sweaty mess on the mattress, and Not-Harry flopped down beside me, tossing an arm over his face as he caught his breath. I couldn’t move. I managed to roll my head to the side, and the slight movement drew his attention. He dropped his arm and turned to smile sleepily at me, dimples popping adorably._ _

__“You’ve been holding out on me, Styles.”_ _

__“Hard to give it your all when your brother’s six inches away.” he smirked._ _

__I flopped a hand out in an attempt to smack him, and only succeeded in dropping my hand his chest. “You’re a perv.”_ _

__“You weren’t complaining when I was fucking the cum out of you.” he murmured, rolling into my side and dropping a hand to my arse cheek as he nuzzled into my neck._ _

__I groaned and made a half-assed attempt to push him away. “Go home, you’re a terrible lay and your dimples are stupid.”_ _

__He burst out in laughter, rolling onto his back and taking me with him so I was pressed up against him. “I can leave, if you want.” he murmured against my temple._ _

__I made a small sound of discontent -- the most I could manage in my current state and shook my head against his shoulder. “Just keep those dimples to yourself or I’ll be forced to seduce you again.”_ _

__“Mmm, no promises.” he mumbled._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend just found himself in a relationship with a girl whose twin sister he dated a few years ago. My life is spinning out of control from this fic.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With 3/4 releasing music and doing promo tours since I posted my last chapter, nobody can blame me for taking this long to post. I also got a puppy who is taking up a lot of my free time with cuddles and kisses. I also had a weird bout of writers block towards the end of this chapter while I tried to figure out how to cut it in the place I wanted.
> 
> Anyways, all has been oddly quiet on the 1D front this week, so here it is. Finally. Sorry for the wait. I have the next two or three chapters outlined, so hopefully those will be up faster than this one was.
> 
> You know, unless those damn boys pop back up and do something else to kill us all. Then you'll have to give me a break. ;)
> 
> THANK YOU FOR ALL THE COMMENTS I LOVE YOU ALL!!! XXXXX

I half expected Harry to skip class the next afternoon, especially when he wasn’t there when the lecture began. But when he slipped in through the door five minutes later -- hair a bit messier, eyes a bit redder, and skin a bit paler than usual -- I almost wished he hadn’t. He looked like he’d been up all night.

“Overslept.” he mumbled as he he dropped into his seat beside me with an apologetic wave at our professor.

I didn’t even know how to respond. I wanted to ask if he was okay. I hoped he’d just been up late working on the paper we had due today, not stayed up all night waiting for his brother to get home from our date. But I didn’t feel like I had the right to ask. Not when it could very well be my fault.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of Pedialyte, along with his laptop.

“Oh my God, you’re hungover!” I exclaimed in a loud whisper.

“Went out with Niall last night.” he chuckled miserably, uncapping the bottle. “You definitely downplayed how much that lad can put away.”

“You went out with Niall?’ I frowned. “I thought he had a date!”

“Is that what he told you?” he chuckled, frowning bemusedly. “Well he had a date with me, I suppose.”

“Where’d you go?” I pried quietly as our professor asked everyone to pass their papers to the end of each row.

“Did a bit of karaoke at the pub. Went bowling at about two in the morning. Got a fry up at about four, and then went back and crashed at my house until about ten minutes ago.”

“And here I’d thought he was off getting laid.” I sighed.

Harry chuckled and slid down in his seat, sipping on his hangover juice. “How was your date? Did he treat you good?”

I shouldn’t have been surprised. Harry was the most confident person I’d ever met. Why I thought, even for a second, that he’d try to avoid the subject or be upset over my date with his brother, I didn’t know. But somehow, I was.

“Erm, yeah, it was good. He was good.” I nodded.

“Did you make it official, yet?” he asked with an easy smile.

“Er, yeah, we did.” I swallowed thickly. Something about having this conversation with Harry was making me feel a bit nauseous. He couldn’t have asked his own brother? He had to ask the one stuck in the middle of them?

_Except I wasn’t anymore, was I?_

“And, are you happy?” his voice dropped to a soft, deep timbre and I looked up to meet his eyes. He wasn’t asking lightly like his earlier tone had implied. His green eyes were filled with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know. Somehow, he needed reassurance that he’d done the right thing. And that fact made me feel simultaneously better and worse about the entire situation.

“Yeah… I think I am…” I answered quietly.

“Good.” he grinned, nudging my shoulder with his before opening up his laptop and focusing on the lecture.

After about fifteen minutes of lecture, Harry finished his Pedialyte and laid his head on my shoulder the way I tended to do with his brother in my morning class.

“Could you _be_ any more British?” he sighed quietly.

“Erm…” I frowned, “Literally, no.”

[“Britain literally got an entire continent hooked on opiates so they could get more tea.”](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/36/07/56/36075688d72c86d5c31794323ba1b302.jpg) he mumbled. “Sounds like something you would do, if given enough power. You’re like an evil little mastermind.”

I choked on a huge laugh, drawing the attention of half the lecture hall, but the professor merely rolled her eyes and carried on droning about China without glancing our way.

“Think she’s given up on us.” Harry chuckled sleepily.

“Can you blame her?” I smirked.

I chuckled and laid my head on top of his. Maybe things would be okay.

 

As far as boyfriends went, Not-Harry was ace. After our date Monday night, he took me to an aquarium Tuesday evening, where he forced me to pose for a million photos in front of weirdly lit fish tanks, insisting that the photos would turn out amazing. And over dinner at a little French bistro afterwards, I reluctantly agreed that they did, in fact, look sick.

Wednesday morning, I brought him a muffin to class, and he provided the tea. We cuddled in the back of the classroom and half-listened to the lecture, and didn’t even bother taking notes, unless you counted the little scribbled ones we passed back and forth containing an excess of happy faces and lopsided hearts.

Thursday evening, after another easy class with Harry, I was sitting at the dining room table going through footage from the party for our video. Niall was lounging on the couch working on something on his laptop, and humming some song he’d been working on for weeks.

His phone rang and he answered it with a grin, but I didn’t pay attention to his conversation as I watched that clip of Harry and me waltzing round the coffee table for the hundredth time in a row.

I wanted to see Not-Harry. I wanted to reassure myself that I’d made the right decision by spending some more time with him. But he was working. The aquarium had been amazing. It was casual and fun, and he had put up with my endless complaints about the photos and the smells and the walking, and then had still wanted to go to dinner with me. And when we had nights like that, or classes where we cuddled and whispered and giggled in the back, I had no doubt in my mind that I’d made the right choice. He was great.

The only problem, was that every Monday and Wednesday class, was followed by a Tuesday and Thursday class where I spent an hour laughing and joking and having an honest to God blast in a fucking _History_ class with Harry. And he was also, so great.

I don’t know how long I was staring at the screen, not really taking anything in, before there was a knock at the door.

I glanced up to find the couch empty and heard the water running in Niall’s bathroom. Then I heaved a sigh and pushed to my feet, padding across the room to the front door.

“Harry!” I exclaimed, eyes the size of saucers. “What are you doing here?”

He frowned and glanced over my shoulder into the flat. “Um, is Niall home?”

I glanced over my shoulder before nodding and stepping aside to let him in. “Yeah. Think he’s using the toilet.”

“Great.” he smiled. “He didn’t tell you I was dropping by?” he asked as he dropped his leather messenger bag on the couch.

“Erm, I don’t know. Maybe? I wasn’t really paying attention.” I admitted.

“Right.” he chuckled. “Well, erm, I called him and asked if maybe he wouldn’t mind working on my song with me? Auditions are tomorrow afternoon, and I’m starting to get a bit nervous.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I frowned. “We told you last week to come over and practice! And Niall sucks at piano.” I added with a scoff. “You need _my_ help.”

Harry huffed a laugh and dropped his eyes to the floor, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I mean, we were hoping to work on it the other night, but… it didn’t happen.”

“When? Why didn’t--” I broke off when it suddenly hit me. “Sunday.” I sighed. “That’s why you were with Niall that night…”

“Yeah… I ran into him on campus on my way home from work. He invited me over to practice it.”

“And we found you snogging the face off his brother when we turned up!” Niall exclaimed, reappearing in the living room, clapping me on the back, just a little bit harder than was really necessary, before leaping into Harry’s arms for a hug. “Mmm… missed you.” he hummed into Harry’s shoulder.

Harry squeezed him tighter and grinned at me over his shoulder. “Missed you too, mate. You’re a much better cuddler than Lou.”

“Oi!” I squawked, punching Niall’s arm as they separated. “What are you doing cuddling anybody but me?”

“Harry’s a little spoon.” he shrugged, as if that explained everything. As if I wasn’t fully aware.

“And Niall’s a big spoon!” Harry beamed, high fiving him with both hands. “We fit!” he added in a high pitched squeal, threading his fingers through Niall’s on both sides.

“Alright, alright.” I laughed, turning for my bedroom. “Let’s see what Mr. Lion’s got.”

I printed out the sheet music I’d found online and set up my keyboard on the kitchen table. It started out as a normal singalong. The music was simple and I had it memorized after one or two rounds and Harry already knew all the words. And he was great. But after the third round, Niall decided it wasn’t working.

“You can’t just stand in the middle of the room and sing. That’s boring. We need the full effect.” he insisted.

“I mean, all I have to do for the audition is sing it.” Harry chuckled. “I have to do a monologue separate, but for the song part, I just have to sing it.”

“You won’t stand out from the crowd if you don’t do more than that.” Niall shook his head, getting up off the couch. “Come on, help me push this out of the way.”

After rearranging the furniture to give us more room, we looked up the Lion’s actual song from the movie on YouTube and had Harry doing the full choreography in no time.

His “If I was king of the forrrrrrrest!!!” was absolutely _spot on._

After nearly an hour of practicing his audition song, I insisted he needed to practice the other songs as well, so he’d be extra prepared when he got the part. We pulled up the YouTube video for _We’re off to see the Wizard_ and Niall and I hooked arms with him singing Dorothy’s, the Scarecrow’s and the Tinman’s parts as we skipped in circles round the living room.

Eventually, we all collapsed on the floor, panting and sweating and Niall reached out to slam the laptop shut with a groan. “Enough of that.” he sighed, flopping back when the endless loop of “skipping music” as he called it, finally cut off.

I rolled my head sideways and grinned at Harry who was staring tiredly up at the ceiling. “You’ve got it in the bag, mate.”

“Hope so.” he sighed, trying and failing to hide a smile.

“Please, you know you’ve got the part already.”

“Don’t jinx it!” He squealed, rolling over to smother my face with both giant hands. “I haven’t got anything yet!”

“Except a sick bunch of friends cheering you on!” Niall exclaimed, rolling on top of me and extending his neck to plant a sloppy kiss on Harry’s dimpled cheek.

“Cheering you on and getting you drunk so you don’t have to worry about it once it’s over.” I added with a smirk. “When do they post the final cast?”

“They post the list for call backs on Monday, and the second round of auditions take place Wednesday, then they’ll post the final list Friday afternoon.” he explained before sighing deeply. “I’ve got a _whole week_ to stress about it.”

“Don’t you listen to a word I say?” I scoffed. “We’re taking you out after the audition tomorrow night to calm your nerves and celebrate getting through it.”

“And we’ll take you out on Wednesday after your second audition, too.” Niall agreed with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t jinx it!” he whined again.

“Hey.” I smacked his arm and fixed him with a stern look. “Positive thoughts, only. We’re sending you good vibes. You just have to believe in yourself. You can do it, I promise.”

“How do you know?” he pouted.

“Because that’s what my mum told me when I auditioned for Grease in school, and I got the fucking lead. They’re magic words, mate. Make it your mantra.”

He took a deep breath and let it out on a loud exhale. “I can do it.” he nodded. “Good vibes.”

“There you go.” I grinned.

 

“What’s the matter?” I murmured with a frown, running a hand up Not-Harry’s back. He’d been smiling all evening, but his shoulders were stiff and there was a crease between his brows that hadn’t smoothed out all night.

He shook his head slowly and took another long gulp of his beer before answering. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

He was halfway through a nod before he was interrupted by Harry flinging his arm round my shoulder from the other side.

“You’re AMAZING!” he crowed, squeezing me so tight he nearly had me in a headlock. My temple pressed to Niall’s from the opposite side and Harry rained kisses over the backs of both our heads from above. “AND YOUR MUM!” he shouted. “I’ve got to call her! I’ve got to tell her how smart she is!”

“Trust me, she’s aware.” I chuckled, digging my fingers into his ribs until he squealed and let us both go. “And I feel like she would appreciate a daytime call tomorrow, much more than midnight one.” I added with a smirk.

“I knew you could do it, mate!” Niall beamed, cupping his face between both hands.

He hadn’t actually heard back, yet, of course. But he’d gotten very positive feedback and he was feeling great about his audition.

“They loved my moves!” he exclaimed for the hundredth time since we’d arrived at the pub. “You were right, Nialler!!”

I shook my head in amusement and turned back to find Not-Harry finishing off his beer. “I have never seen him this drunk before.” I grinned. “It’s absolutely amazing.”

“He’s very excited tonight.” he nodded in agreement. “He told me you boys helped him out a lot last night.”

“I think more than anything, we just calmed his nerves a bit.” I shrugged. “He had his song down pat when he arrived. We really just forced him to skip round the coffee table for a couple of hours.” I laughed.

“Sounds like you had a good time.” he murmured quietly.

I turned to face him more fully, and dropped a hand to his knee. “Is that what’s bothering you tonight?” I asked softly. “That I helped Harry out with his song?”

He shrugged noncommittally. “Not… I don’t know. It’s not _bothering_ me, per se. It’s just… A little weird, isn’t it? Now that we’re dating? And after everything?”

I frowned. “I mean. It could be, if we let it. But Harry and I aren’t letting it be weird. So you shouldn’t either.”

“I know… I just.” He shrugged again and didn’t make any attempt to continue.

“Look, I know it’s a weird situation.” I sighed. “Believe me. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit nervous to see Harry after we went out that first night. But nothing has changed between us. He’s still fun to hang out with and he hasn’t let anything that happened come between us. Niall and I promised him we’d help him prepare for his audition, and we kept our word.”

“I know.” he swallowed thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“And if it makes you feel better about the whole thing, I didn’t even know he was coming over. He called Niall, and made plans with him. I just happened to be home when he arrived.”

He perked up a bit at that. “He didn’t call you?”

“Nope. Just showed up at my flat looking for Niall.”

He spun his empty pint glass in a ring of condensation on the table for a moment before nodding and lifting his gaze to smile at me. The first real smile I’d seen all night. “You’re right. It doesn’t have to be weird. He’s going to be in your life as long as you’re in mine. I guess we have to get used to him being around.”

“I mean, you should already be used to having him around.” I smirked. “And I’ve grown pretty accustomed to his presence over the past few weeks. So I think it’s just up to you to get used to him being around _me_.”

His lips pulled to the side as he nodded somewhat reluctantly. “You’re right.”

I gave his knee a reassuring squeeze under the table and nodded towards the bar. “Come on. Let’s go get some more drinks.”

I hopped off my stool and dragged him through the crowd to the busy bar, leaning on a vacant spot and glancing back towards our friends as we waited for the bartender to notice us. The song playing over the noise of the crowd finished and _Heroes_ came on next.

My toes began tapping and I hummed along without thought until I felt eyes on me and turned to find Not-Harry grinning down at me.

“What?” I chuckled, feeling my cheeks burn at being caught jamming.

“Have I ever told you that you remind me of him?” he asked dropping a hand to my hip.

“Who?”

“David Bowie.” his dimples popped and he gave my hip a little squeeze.

My head tossed back on a laugh. “Why?!”

“You look like a young Bowie.” he chuckled. “Less drugs and… mess. But. Just as gorgeous and captivating.”

I shook my head in amusement, doing my best to pretend I wasn’t blushing like crazy when I nodded over towards our table. “What about Liam?”

“What about him?” he frowned, glancing over at him talking animatedly with Niall.

“He looks like a young Beckham.” I laughed. “First thing I noticed when you introduced me. Used to have a poster of him in my room at home.” I added with a smirk.

“Ew!” he groaned. “I’ll never be able to look at Becks the same!”

I rolled with laughter, until his hand suddenly clutched my wrist. “Gordon Ramsay!”

“What?” I laughed, “Liam?”

“NO! NIALL!” He exclaimed, jabbing a finger in his general direction. “He’s Gordon, like forty years ago! Before he forgot how to smile!”

A scream escaped my mouth just before my hands clapped over it.

“What can I get ya?” the man behind the bar asked, finally acknowledging us.

“Two pints.” Not-Harry answered around his giggles.

“And two shots!” I exclaimed, nudging him in the ribs.

“And two shots!” he laughed, pulling me closer with an arm round my waist. “Are you trying to get me drunk?” he asked, turning back to me as the bartender poured our drinks.

“Yes, definitely.” I grinned.

 

“I do not look like Gordon Ramsay!” Niall exclaimed with a hand pressed to his chest to illustrate his outrage.

“You do!” Harry squealed, pounding his fist on the table as he was overcome with giggles.

“Zayn looks like Uncle Jesse!” Niall retorted drawing an indignant squawk from Zayn’s lips.

“Oooh, I can get behind that.” Liam wiggled his eyebrows at his boyfriend, pressing himself closer to his side.

“Only if I can get in front of Becks.” Zayn smirked in return.

“Harry’s Jagger!” I exclaimed as he threw his arms up in the air. “ _Without_ the moves.” I added with a cheeky smirk.

“God, he’s gotten that since we were like fourteen.” Not-Harry laughed, sagging against my side. “He loves it.”

“And who have you gotten, then?” I grinned, squeezing his knee below the table.

“I look a bit like Harry.” he shrugged.

“Aaaaangie!” Harry slurred across the table.

“WHAT?!” I squawked. “Who the fuck is Angie?”

“Angie Bowie!” he beamed. “He can be your wife! Only room for one Jagger, bro!”

Not-Harry groaned, clutching his stomach as he laughed. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick if you guys don’t stop making me laugh...”

My abs were burning as well, but I didn’t care. It had been such a perfect night. “You take care of your little tum tum.” I murmured, rubbing my hand over it in gentle circles. “Can’t have a sleep over if you’re sick, can we?”

Not-Harry hummed against my shoulder and nuzzled into my neck. “I’ve suddenly made a full recovery.” he murmured just below my ear before brushing a kiss there.

“Alright, alright, let’s get you lads home before you start fucking on the table.” Niall laughed, hopping off his stool and reaching for Harry. “Come on, love. Up, up!”

Harry whined as he was moved off his stool and draped an arm round Niall’s shoulders as we all moved to the door.

“I’ll get him home.” Niall said as we reached the sidewalk, nodding at the noodle of a man hanging from his neck. “You go have fun.” he shot me a wink and prodded Harry in the ribs as he started off in the direction of the Style’s household, while Zayn, Liam, Not-Harry and I turned back towards our flats near campus.

Liam and Zayn broke off with sloppy waves as we reached the next block, and Not-Harry and I stumbled the rest of the way home on our own, giggling and groping the whole way. We tumbled through the front door a mess of limbs and wandering hands before I shoved him in the general direction of my bedroom.

“Gotta hurry before Neil gets home!” I whispered loudly, as if he could hear us from across town.

I had a low growl as a warning just seconds before I was suddenly tossed over a broad shoulder. I shrieked and managed to slam the door as he carried me towards my room with purposeful steps before tossing me on the bed with a bounce.

“God, babe, you’re so… _fuck!_ ” he hissed, leaning over me and pulling my lower lip between his teeth.

I moaned against his lips and tangled my fist in his t-shirt, only for him to break our kiss and lean out of reach. “No!” I whined, making grabby hands for him before I realized what he was doing. “Yes!” I exclaimed as he tossed his t-shirt aside and reached for the button on his jeans.

“Off!” he grunted breathlessly, knocking my knee with his own as he shoved his jeans down his endless legs. “All of it.”

I scrambled to strip as fast as possible while he adjusted his bun and crawled up the mattress towards me. He pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee, pushing my discarded jeans off the edge of the bed before moving higher and licking a stripe up my inner thigh.

“ _Yes_!” I sighed, twisting my sheets in my fists.

His face disappeared into my groin, nuzzling into the crease of my hip before licking a stripe up to my hipbone where he sucked a bruise.

I groaned and reached for my cock, stroking the straining flesh twice before my hand was knocked away and Not-Harry’s face appeared above mine. The dripping tip of his cock dragged along my inner thigh and I whined and squirmed beneath him as he reached for my bedside table.

My hands palmed his round little bum as he dug around for supplies and I spread his cheeks, digging my fingers into the meaty flesh as I thrusted up against him. “What the fuck are you doing, over there?” I whined, “Need you _now_!”

“Patience…” he hummed, leaning back and sitting up on his haunches. His cock bobbed above my belly and I couldn’t resist the temptation, reaching out to stroke it firmly. “Greedy little grasshopper.” he smirked, knocking my hand away and gripping my hips before suddenly flipping me over like a half-cooked pancake.

A low hum met my ears as his big hands palmed my cheeks, spreading them apart roughly. “So fucking perfect.” he murmured, before letting them go and smacking my right cheek hard enough to leave it jiggling.

I moaned, and squirmed beneath him, arching my arse up as best i could with him straddling my legs. I heard the plastic snap of the cap on the bottle of lube and whined in anticipation of the cold slick finger that quickly followed.

He opened me up before pulling me to my knees and sliding home with a loud moan. His hands gripped my cheeks with surprising strength as he plowed furiously into me, setting a relentless pace.

My arms were shaking from holding my weight up, my head was swimming with a heady mixture of booze and lust and my arse cheeks were sure to have little purple bruises polkadotted across them by morning. And still Not-Harry carried on, kneading the globes of my arse, slurring out compliments and praise the whole time.

My arms finally gave out, and I buried my face in the mattress, groaning loudly when Not-Harry’s fist wrapped around my throbbing cock. It didn’t take more than half a dozen firm strokes before I was shooting all over the sheets below me.

Not-Harry suddenly pulled out with a whimper and the next thing I knew, my arse was covered in warm, sticky cum.

I collapsed to the side, somehow conscious of the mess underneath me, and the other one behind me through the haze of my high.

“We’re going to need to come up with a better system for this.” I panted, wincing as a dribble of cum slid over the curve of my arse to land on the sheets.

“For what?” he mumbled, half asleep already.

I glanced to the side to find him nodding off and chuckled softly. No use disturbing him now.

I waddled carefully to the bathroom and turned on the shower. I had planned on just a quick rinse, but as soon as the hot water hit my back, all the tension in my shoulders began to unwind. I didn’t feel stressed, but my muscles told a different story. Why was I so tense? The entire point of the night out was to _de_ stress Harry. And it had worked! And I’d had a great night! Harry was so happy, Not-Harry was so sweet. If ever there had been a night made for unwinding, that was it.

I stood under the spray until my fingers were wrinkled and my skin was warm and flushed, before finally dragging myself out into the steam filled bathroom. I dried myself slowly, methodically. I scrubbed through my hair with my towel until it was dry enough not to leave my pillow feeling swampy, before turning to the sink. I loaded up my toothbrush with some paste and wiped the steam from the mirror as I began brushing.

There were dark circles under my bloodshot eyes. I looked like I hadn’t slept in weeks. But, who doesn’t look a bit shit after a dozen drinks and a good fuck, right?

I spat and rinsed with that thought reassuring me, before padding back out to my bedroom where I found Not-Harry sprawled across the whole bed on his stomach, snoring softly. I pulled my briefs back on and reached for the cup of water on my nightstand. I took a sip and promptly spit it back into the cup. _Ugh!_ How long had that been there?

I sighed and wandered out into the kitchen to get a fresh glass of water, and found Niall’s bedroom door open as I passed. Bed empty. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. I’d been home over an hour.

A shiver ran down my spine. He should be home by now.

I bolted back to the bedroom and dug my phone out of the pocket of my jeans on the floor. No messages. _Shit!_

I pulled up my favorites list and tapped his name. Crouching in the middle of my bedroom floor, I held my breath as I waited for an answer. My stomach turned when, after five rings, it went to voicemail.

“Dammit!” I hissed, chucking my phone onto the ground and reaching for my jeans, yanking them on before grabbing my t-shirt and phone from the floor and sprinting for the door. I yanked my shirt over my head and dialed his number again as I sprinted down the stairs. It rang once. And again. And one more time, before I heard click and a small shuffle.

“NI!” I shouted.

“‘Lo?” a deep voice rumbled across the line.

“Harry!” I exclaimed, “Niall didn’t come home!”

“Loueh?” he yawned. “He’s right here.”

“Right _where_?” I groaned, “Where the fuck are you?”

“In m’bed.” he mumbled quietly. There was a shuffle and a soft, “Hang on a sec.” before I heard a door click. “What’s going on, love?” he asked a bit louder and a lot clearer.

I sank onto the bottom step with a sigh and buried my head in my hands. “Niall’s at your house? He’s safe?” I asked.

“Of course he’s safe. Lou, what’s going on? Why are you freaking out?”

“I got out of the shower and he wasn’t home.” I murmured. My shoulders were shaking with leftover adrenaline and stomach was in knots. I felt like I was going to be sick. “He was drunk. He walked you home. I thought he’d come home after, and when he didn’t, I panicked.”

It was quiet for a long moment, completely silent except for my panting breaths as I tried to get my body back under my control. “He’s okay.” Harry finally assured me in a soft voice. “He decided to stay over. I can wake him if you want to talk to him.”

“No, it’s okay.” I sighed, running a hand through my damp hair. “Long as he’s safe.”

“I’m looking after him.”

“Guess I should go back to bed, then. Let you get back, too.”

He didn’t hang up, and neither did I.

“Where are you?”

“What?” I frowned, sitting up and looking around.

“Your voice is echoey.” I could practically picture the lazy shrug.

A small laugh escaped my lips. “In the stairwell. I was running off to find him when you answered.”

“Normally I wouldn’t answer someone else’s phone, but it woke me up the first time. And when it went off the second time I checked to see who was calling at three am. I only answered because it was you.”

“I’m glad you did. Saved me a barefoot run round the city.”

“I’m sorry we worried you.” he murmured in a low, rumbling voice.

“It’s okay. I probably overreacted.” I wiggled my toes against the concrete floor. _Definitely overreacted._

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“Don’t know about that.” I scoffed.

“I think he’s worried about me.” he admitted very quietly.

“Why?”

“He took me out and got me drunk last time my brother slept over with you. This time, he offered to walk me home and then stayed to give me a cuddle. I think he’s worried I’m heartbroken over you.”

“Why not just tell him you’re not?”

“And give up all the cuddles?” he chuckled.

A small smile lifted the corners of my mouth. “Are you heartbroken over me, Styles?” I asked, only halfway joking.

“Are you happy with my brother, Tomlinson?” he asked in the same, halfway joking way.

I sighed deeply and dropped my head back to stare at the EXIT sign above me. “Yeah. I think I’m happy.”

“Then no. I don’t think I’m heartbroken.”

“I want you to be happy.” I murmured softly.

He was silent for long enough that I actually pulled my phone away from my face to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. When I found the numbers still counting, I put the phone back to my ear and waited. Finally, he spoke. “You should probably get back to Angie.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. “And you better get back to Ramsay.”

“Good night, Bowie.” I could hear the fond smile across the line, and it tugged my lips up into a smile.

“Sweet dreams, Jagger.”

 

Not-Harry and I were eating scrambled eggs when Niall arrived home in the morning.

“You didn’t let him cook, did you?” he asked Not-Harry without preamble.

“No.” he smirked in return. “Made him eggs after he woke me up complaining he has starving to death.”

“He does that.” Niall nodded with a fond eyeroll. “Did he make you tea, at least?”

“Yeah. The best.” he grinned 

“Least he’s good for something.” he chuckled.

I caught his wrist as he moved past me and yanked him down into my lap before digging my fingers into his ribs. “I’m right fucking here, you know!”

Niall squealed with laughter and rolled out of my arms, landing in a starfish shape on the floor. “Missed you, Lou.” he grinned, panting slightly.

“Could’ve come home, then.” I quipped, forcing my tone to stay light.

“Sorry.” he winced. “Passed out before I remembered to text you.”

Not-Harry’s phone alarm suddenly began blaring that bloody Marimba tone and he silenced it before shooting me an adorable pout. “I’ve got to get going to work.”

“Alright,” I smiled, reaching out to give his hand a squeeze.

“I’ll call you tonight?”

“Of course.” I nodded.

He took his plate to the sink before coming back and dropping a kiss to my cheek. “See you later.” And with a wave to Niall, he was gone.

He waited until the door had closed behind him before turning a frown on me. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

“You didn’t.” I shrugged, pushing my last bite of scrambled egg round the perimeter of my plate.

“Harry told me you were halfway out the door with no shoes before he answered my phone.” he pressed his lips together, but it did nothing to hide the smirk peeking through.

“Maybe I was a _bit_ worried.” i relented.

“I’m sorry. Really.” he frowned.

It wasn’t like he’d never stayed out all night. He’d gone home with random girls and stumbled home at nine am enough times that this _shouldn’t_ be any different. But it was. “Why didn’t you text?” We didn’t usually keep tabs on each other, but if I knew there was a chance he was hooking up, I didn’t worry about him if he didn’t come home.

“I didn’t even think about it. Just decided to crash over, and passed out.”

“Why didn’t you come home?” I asked quietly, eyes fixed on that last bite of egg.

I caught Niall’s shrug out of my peripheral. “Just thought you’d appreciate an empty flat.”

“Harry said he thinks you’re worried about him.” I had never been one to beat round the bush.

I glanced up just in time to see his eyebrows shoot up into his hair. “He said that?”

“Why didn’t you come home last night? Or the other night when I went out with Not-Harry.”

He ran his hands over his face with a deep sigh before dropping them both to the floor, spread out like a starfish, again. “He likes you, mate.”

“I know…” I nodded slowly.

“And you’re dating his brother.”

“I’m aware.” I deadpanned.

“I just… didn’t want him sitting home stewing on it all night. I wanted him to go out and have fun and forget about all that.”

“What has he said about it?” I asked, hesitantly. I wasn’t sure I wanted an answer.

“Nothing.” He shook his head side to side on the carpet. “He just keeps asking if you’re happy.”

“Yeah… That’s all I’ve gotten out of him, too.” I sighed.

“Well?” he lifted his foot to prod my knee before propping it in my lap. “Are you happy with Not-Harry?”

“Yeah.” I shrugged. “He’s great. He’s sweet and funny. We always have fun together…”

“He’s got a huge prick.” he smirked.

“How do you know?!” I exclaimed.

“Lucky guess the morning after your first date.” he grinned.

I flipped him the bird and pretended my cheeks weren’t burning.

Based on the way he curled in on himself with laughter, I guessed I’d failed.

I got up and made my way to the kitchen to clean up breakfast, and paused halfway. “Hey, Ni?” I asked without turning around.

“Mmm?” he hummed from the floor.

“Keep an eye on him, yeah?”

“‘Course, Lou.”

 

_Not-Harry: What you up to babe?_

_Me: Playing footie in the park with Neil. You?_

_Not-Harry: Working :(_

_Me: Oh quit complaining! You’re off in an hour!_

_Not-Harry: It’s so slooooow today! Entertain me._

_Me: Did you miss the part where I’m playing footie?_

_Not-Harry: If you’ve got time for texting you’ve got time for entertaining your boyfriend. Pleeeeeeease????_

_Me: Needy needy…_

It was true though. We’d been lying, panting in the grass for the last five minutes after a particularly savage game of one on one. Honestly, we were probably only moments away from packing it in.

“How’s a cupcake sound?” I asked, rolling my head on the damp grass to squint at Niall’s sweaty figure beside me.

“If they’re from your boyfriend, sounds like heaven.” he grinned. “Harry brought me a chocolate one last time we hung out. It was the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

“Not-Harry is literally about to die of boredom. Wanna go demand free cupcakes?”

“Yes. Hundred percent.” he nodded, sitting up more enthusiastically than I would have expected him capable of five minutes ago when we collapsed. “Come on.”

We swung by the flat to ditch the football and the sweaty clothes before wandering across campus to the bakery I’d never visited. A shout and a hurried _hush!_ greeted us as we entered, bell ringing above the door, just before Harry emerged from the back room with a polite smile.

That polite smile brightened tenfold when he caught sight of his newest customers. “What a wonderful surprise!” he exclaimed, hopping up on the counter and swinging his long legs over the register before hopping off in front of us and pulling us into a big group hug. “What’re you doing here?” he beamed as he let us go.

“You smell like frosting!” Niall exclaimed, pulling him in for a second hug and sniffing his shirt with a happy groan.

“Not-Harry seemed to think there was risk of dying of boredom over here.” I smirked, as Harry rested his cheek on the top of Niall’s head, perfectly content to let him keep sniffing him. “So we figured we’d come demand free cupcakes and liven this place up a bit.”

“OIIIII!” Harry suddenly shouted, dimples popping.

“WHAAAT?!” Not-Harry’s voice shouted back.

“C’MERE!”

“I’ve still got frosting in my hair, you -- Louis!” Not-Harry’s face lit up under a smear of pink frosting and he wiped at his jaw as he rounded the counter to come give me a kiss.

“Surprise.” I grinned, reaching up to wipe a bit of pink from his forehead. “You’ve got a little…” I licked the frosting from my thumb and wiggled my eyebrows teasingly at him. “Strawberry?”

“I told you we were bored!” he groaned, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead and missing most of the mess again. “We invented a card game when we were like eight that involves the winner catapulting frosting at the loser, and we resurrected it today.”

“First of all, I want to play this game. And secondly, I want a cupcake with this frosting on it right this second.”

“We’re retiring the game while I’m still frosting-free,” Harry smirked, “But the cupcake, we can do.”

It turned out, there was one detail the boys had neglected to mention for the past month or so we’d been friends. The bakery they worked at? Yeah, they fucking _owned_ it. Okay, like their parents owned it. And all three Styles children (and Liam) had been working at it since they were old enough to count back change. So when they said they could give us free cupcakes, like, they actually _could_.

By the time their mum arrived to relieve them, I’d destroyed a pink cupcake and two croissants, and Niall had inhaled three cupcakes. Part of me felt bad for taking advantage of my baker boyfriend and his generosity, but the other part of me figured I’d make it worth his while later.

“We should go bowling!” Harry exclaimed as we wandered out of the bakery at four o’clock.

“Bowling?!” I laughed. “Do people even go bowling anymore?”

“You went bowling this summer.” Niall pointed out.

“Right, when I took my toddler brother and sister.” I deadpanned.

“We went bowling last week!” Harry laughed, nudging Niall with his shoulder.

“Drunk bowling is different.” I chuckled. “I’ll agree to bowl if you promise there will be beer involved.”

“Is that even a question?” Niall scoffed.

We bought two pitchers of cheap beer to start, and spent the first twenty minutes arguing over who got to be in control of entering everyone’s names on the touch screen. When Harry won, he wore a smug smile as he typed B-O-W-I-E. Then A-N-G-I-E.

When Ramsay and Jagger joined the lineup, we laughed loud enough to draw disapproving glares from the bowling league three lanes down.

“Last time I went bowling, I had toddlers and bumpers on my side, so if I’m shit at this, you’re not allowed to laugh.” I announced as I made my way to the top of the lane with the pearlescent blue ball I’d chosen.

“No promises!” Harry called after me, drawing snickers from the other two.

I wiggled my bum a little before taking a step and hurling my ball down the lane… straight into the gutter. The boys cheered enthusiastically, and I flipped them all off with both hands while I waited next to the ball return. “Fuck off! I’ll get it this time.” I assured them as I stepped back up to take my second shot.

There was a chorus of, “OHHHH!!!” when my ball -- somehow -- hit dead center and knocked out all but one pin on the far left.

I smirked and gave them a little shrug before skipping back to the table where my beer was waiting for me.

“Good job, babe.” Not-Harry grinned, catching my hand on his way past and pulling me in for a kiss.

I chuckled into the kiss and pulled out of it in order to shoot him a wink. “Go show us what you’re made of.” I ordered, smacking his butt as I passed to rejoin Harry and Niall.

“We’re talking about ordering food.” Niall explained as I dropped into a chair and took a big gulp of my beer.

“I want hot wings.” Harry whined.

“I told you!” Niall laughed, “You can get whatever you want, but I’m not sharing hot wings with you. My acid reflux will kill me!”

“But there’s so many!” Harry pouted. “I can’t eat them all by myself!”

“I’ll share with you.” I offered with a shrug. “I’m not going to spontaneously combust from it.”

I heard the crash of pins and looked up to see Not-Harry’s ball had taken out all the pins on the right half of the lane.

“WOOOO!!” I cheered as he sauntered back to the ball return with a dimpled smile. “Gonna order some hot wings, wanna share with us?” I asked once he was close enough that I didn’t have to shout at full volume.

He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Think I’ll just have a burger or something.”

The food showed up after two more rounds each, and I was losing to everyone but Harry. He was truly terrible, but oddly unbothered. “I’m just here for the food.” he shrugged, sucking a bit of orange sauce from his thumb.

“Sure you don’t want any?” I asked, offering my plate to Not-Harry.

He shook his head with a polite smile and tossed a couple of chips into his mouth. “Nah, I’m good.” 

“The Kid doesn’t do spicy food, either.” Harry provided. “I never have anyone to share hot wings with.”

“See!” Niall exclaimed, “I’m not the only one!”

“Yes you are.” I insisted. “You are definitely the only old man at this table.”

“It’s not acid reflux stopping him.” Harry laughed.

“Oh, here we go.” Not-Harry groaned, sagging in his chair.

“Where are we going?” I asked, arching an eyebrow between both boys.

“I just don’t like spicy food.” he shrugged. “And Harry never lets me hear the end of it.”

“The problem isn’t that you don’t _like_ it.” he smirked. “It’s that mayonnaise is too spicy for you.”

Niall and I burst out in laughter while Not-Harry crossed his arms with a pout. “You’re hilarious.” he deadpanned.

“Aww… it’s alright, babe. I won’t make you eat anything you can’t handle.” I promised, cupping his cheek with a small chuckle. “Won’t even kiss you til I’m done!”

Apparently that was not the solution he was looking for, because the next thing I knew, he was dragging me halfway out of my chair to kiss me breathless. “He’s exaggerating.” he mumbled against my lips before pressing one more lingering kiss there and pulling away. He licked his lips with a smug smile before picking up his burger and taking a big bite.

“Oh, look at that.” Harry smiled cheerfully as he got to his feet, “It’s my turn!”

Niall cleared his throat loudly and I turned to find him frowning at me while Not-Harry stuffed a handful of chips into his mouth, oblivious to the awkward situation he’d left behind.

I pressed my lips together and shredded the napkin in my lap until Harry got the first strike of the night and we all jumped out of our seats to cheer for him. On my way back to the table after my turn, Not-Harry caught me in passing and gave me another long, deep kiss. Normally I wouldn’t bat an eye at a bit of light PDA, but full on snogging in a bowling alley wasn’t exactly my thing. Especially when my boyfriend’s brother, who I happened to have had a couple of recent threesomes with, was being forced to watch.

“Need another pitcher,” Niall announced once he’d taken his turn. “Come with me Lou?”

“Sure.” I nodded, prying Not-Harry’s big hand from my upper thigh with a reassuring smile. “Be right back.”

I followed Niall to the concession stand -- and then past it as he ducked down the hallway that led to the toilets. “What the fuck?” he hissed, rounding on me.

“What?” I frowned, head jerking back in surprise at his accusing glare.

“You asked me to look out for Harry, you said you didn’t want him hurt, and then you go and flaunt your relationship with his brother all over the fooking place!” I could tell he was legitimately angry, because his accent got thicker when he was fired up. And I loved him for it, but he was wrong.

“ _I’m_ not doing anything!” I hissed back. “It’s him who’s snogging the breath out of me every chance he gets! You know I’m not big on PDAs!”

“Then put a stop to it!”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I think your brother is jealous, let’s not touch in front of him?’ That would only make _him_ jealous.”

Niall sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The blonde was beginning to grow out, and I was liking this brunet version of him. He looked so grown up. Especially when he had his dad face on, lecturing me the way he was. “Can you just try to cool it?” he asked, “Just, I know there’s not a lot you can do right now that won’t make things worse. But maybe have a little chat with him later? Say what you just said to me. That you’re not big into PDAs and you wanna keep things casual when you’re out.”

“I don’t want to hurt his feelings, or make him feel like he’s done anything wrong.” I frowned. “He hasn’t. Not really. I just… I don’t want him to hurt Harry’s feelings, unintentionally.”

“I know.” Niall nodded, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Just talk to him later. Not like, a big talk. Just casually mention it.”

“Yeah, okay.” I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I put just a little bit of distance between Not-Harry’s and my chairs when Niall and I returned to the table. Just enough that he couldn’t comfortably reach over and pull me into a kiss. And the next time he tried to steal one from me on my way back from taking my turn, I dodged him with a spin under his arm and a playful smirk before throwing a “Get your head in the game, Styles.” over my shoulder as I backed towards my seat.

And as the night wore on, and there were less snog sessions, Harry’s mood definitely improved.

 

Monday mornings were not generally the best time of my life. If it weren’t for my cuddle sessions with Not-Harry in the back of our Stats class, they would be downright unbearable. But this particular Monday was worse than usual. I spilled tea in my lap the moment I sat down at my desk, earning a dark glare from my professor when I swore loudly and leapt out of my seat. Not only had I soaked my joggers and burned myself in a very sensitive area, but my white t-shirt was now stained as well. If I didn’t already look like a complete slob, this definitely wasn’t helping.

Then class was called into session and our professor announced -- with a pointed look in my general direction -- that she was noticing some of her students were struggling after the last assignment, and had decided to give us a mock-final exam on Wednesday morning, before our actual midterm next week. She told us it was definitely worth a good chunk of points and that if we couldn’t pass it, we could pretty much count on not passing her class this term.

“She’s staring at us.” Not-Harry hissed out of the corner of his mouth.

“We’re probably responsible for this entire thing.”

“Hundred percent.” The blonde girl in front of us turned to glare at us. “I blame you.”

I gave her an apologetic smile, which she didn’t return and sagged down in my seat. “We should probably study for this thing, then.” I sighed.

“I’m off work today. Have any plans after class?” Not-Harry asked.

I shook my head. “Come over and help me figure all this shit out?”

“I’ll do my best.” he chuckled.

 

Niall, bless him, not only made us lunch when we got home, but also reminded me he’d taken Stats last year and still had all his notes backed up on his hard drive. He agreed to help us prepare for this bloody exam until we had to leave for our Production class at four, which gave us about three hours to work on it.

We were about an hour in, empty ramen bowls forgotten in the middle of the table, and notes strewn on every available surface, when there was a loud knock on the door.

“No! Focus!” Niall ordered when I moved to answer it, glad for a distraction. “I’ll get it.”

I grumbled and dropped back into my chair with a huff.

“I GOT A CALL BACK!”

“FUCK YES!!” Niall shouted jumping through the door.

The next moment, Harry stumbled through the door with Niall hanging from his neck and a smile the size of his big stupid head carving dimples in both flushed cheeks.

“You got it?!” I exclaimed, leaping from my chair and charging him. Niall moved out of the way just in time for me to tackle Harry in a hug that made him stumble back a couple of steps, colliding with the back of the couch.

“Just a call back.” he laughed, steadying himself with one hand while his other clutched the back of my shirt in a tight hug.

“I KNEW YOU’D GET IT!!” I shouted in his ear. “I TOLD YOU!”

He pushed me off and shook his head, but his huge dimpled smile didn’t waver. “I haven’t gotten anything yet. It’s just a call back. Don’t jinx it!”

“Oh, fuck off, you know you’ve got it in the bag.” I scoffed, shoving his shoulder.

“When did you find out?” We both turned to find Not-Harry leaning on the edge of my kitchen table, crumpling a pile of notes under his arse.

“Just now!” Harry beamed.

“And you came straight over here?” his brother asked slowly.

Harry shrugged. “I mean, I called mum first. And she told me you were here. Figured I’d drop by and tell you all at once!” he smiled cheerfully, but there was a definite layer of tension settling over the room.

Not-Harry nodded slowly for a long moment before pushing off the table and crossing the room to his brother in three long strides. “Congratulations, H. You deserve it.” he commented before pulling him into a hug.

I caught the look Niall shot Harry over his shoulder before the boys parted.

“We should celebrate!” Niall exclaimed, clapping his hands loudly.

“It’s one o’clock in the afternoon.” Not-Harry pointed out with a laugh.

“And we have class in three hours.” I reminded Niall with a pout.

“Why don’t we celebrate this weekend if I get it, then?” Harry grinned. “I don’t want to celebrate prematurely, anyways.”

“Jesus, I’m surrounded by party poopers!” Niall groaned, burying his face in both hands. “I need new friends.”

“You’re not allowed to leave us!” Harry whined, pulling him into another hug. “You promised we’d be best friends forever!”

“Oi!” I squawked, “You’re supposed to be _my_ best friend forever!”

“Harry makes better cupcakes.” Niall shrugged, hugging him back.

 

I scraped by on my Stats exam and _barely_ passed. Not-Harry did better than me, but I didn’t care. I didn’t care if I had the worst grade in the class as long as I passed and didn’t have to sit through another term of this torture.

When I didn’t hear from Harry by the time I got home Wednesday night, I texted him.

_Me: How did your call back go?_

_Harry: I think it went well. We’ll find out for sure on Friday yeah?_

_Me: You’ve got it in the bag. Don’t stress about it._

_Harry: I’m actually fine. I’ve done all I can do at this point. It’s out of my hands now._

_Me: Healthy perspective!_

_Harry: Friend of mine told me to stay positive._

_Me: Sounds like a smart man._

_Harry: More like a SMOL man. But he does have his moments too. ;)_

_Me: OI!!!!!_

 

Something was off on Thursday. Harry -- normally such a studious note taker, even while making inappropriate jokes about famines and massacres -- hadn’t even taken his laptop out of his messenger bag. He had a pen in his hand that he was tapping relentlessly on the cover of the closed textbook on his desk.

Twenty minutes later, Harry had leaned over and opened his mouth like he was going to say something before snapping it shut and turning back to the front at least half a dozen times. And I was getting sick of it. The seventh time he leaned over, I huffed impatiently.

“Just spit it out, will you?”

He bit his lip as his dimple made an adorable appearance. “I got the part.”

“WHAT?!”

“SHH!!” he hissed, glancing at the front where our professor was completely ignoring my outburst.

“You said you wouldn’t find out until Friday!” I whispered loudly.

“I mean, it’s not like, official. They haven’t posted the list.” He was smiling so brightly he looked like he was made of actual sunshine. “They didn’t have me do anything at my call back yesterday. They told me that when the official list is posted on Friday, I could expect to see my name on it.”

“Harry, that’s amazing!” I exclaimed, just a little quieter -- but no less enthusiastically -- than before. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I haven’t told anyone yet…” he admitted, ducking his head. “I didn’t want to say anything in case they changed their mind or something. But…” he trailed off with a shrug and glanced up at me.

“You couldn’t keep it in anymore.” I smirked.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head with bright, excited eyes.

“Fuck this, Jagger, let’s go celebrate.” I announced, slamming my laptop closed and reaching for my bag.

“Louis, we’re in _class_!” he laughed, even as he reached for his own bag. “She’s staring right at us!” he added in a low hiss.

“It is completely beyond me, how you both have two of the highest marks in this class.” she sighed, leaning heavily on her podium. “And at the moment, you’re just distracting everybody else from revising for the midterm next week. Get out of here. Go celebrate whatever it is you need to celebrate and come back Tuesday ready to ace this exam.”

I turned to beam at Harry and found him blinding the whole room with those stupid fucking dimples. “Come on, Curly!” I exclaimed, tugging him out of his chair to relieved applause from the rest of the class, who apparently didn’t appreciate Harry’s and my commentary as much as they should.

I opened a group message as we skipped out of the building and paused at the edge of the grass to shoot out a text.

_Me: HARRY GOT THE PART WE’RE GETTING DRUNK GET THE FUCK OVER HERE!!!!_

I didn’t bother checking my phone again as we raced across the lawn towards my flat at the edge of campus.

 

I woke up with a pounding headache and what felt like an entire desert worth of sand under my eyelids. I was sprawled on my back on the floor, but my eyes -- okay, my _everything_ \-- hurt too bad to try and find out where I was. Instead of forcing them open just yet, I took a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to settle the nausea that was swirling in my gut, while I tried to remember what had happened last night.

I remembered day drinking “in the quad with the squad!” as Liam had so eloquently put it. And then we moved back to our flat to pregame more seriously. Flashes of a nightclub with bright lights, pounding bass, and _lots_ of shots crept slowly across my subconscious. Not-Harry was there. And Niall. Zayn and Liam. And Harry. Of course Harry was there, we were celebrating... the play! He got the part in the play!

I groaned when my sudden excitement over remembering how I’d gotten into this predicament sent my stomach lurching and my head pounding.

Someone, somewhere nearby shifted and suddenly a heavy arm draped over my middle as a too-warm face nudged into my neck. “How ya feelin’?” Not-Harry’s rough, morning voice mumbled against my collarbone.

“Like I’m going to puke on your face.”

“Charming.” he chuckled sleepily.

“If this is your version of dirty talk, wait til the rest of us ‘ave fucked off, yeah?” Harry grunted from somewhere to my right.

I rolled my head towards the sound and cracked one eye open to find Harry sprawled on his stomach on the couch above me. My couch. I was home. That was a relief, at least. I didn’t have to move from this spot all day if I didn’t want.

“I’m never letting you get me drunk again.” he mumbled against his forearm.

I nudged the arm that hung down from the couch halfheartedly before letting my hand drop to the floor. “You’re the lion.”

A dimple poked out from under a mop of messy, greasy curls. “I’m the lion.”

It was a phrase he’d repeated a thousand times last night, in a much louder, more enthusiastic manner. But I was thankful for the subdued version, this morning.

“Who’s making breakfast?” Niall groaned from somewhere beyond the couch. “Need something greasy before I starve!”

“Forget the hangover, he’s hungry!” Harry laughed, arching his back like a stretching cat.

A warm hand slid up under the hem of my shirt and stroked over the small tuft of hair between my pecs. I turned to Not-Harry and gave him a sleepy smile, only to find myself dodging his lips the next second.

“No way! I reek!” I laughed, rolling over to bury my face in the carpet.

“I’ve tasted you first thing in the morning, babe.” he reminded me in an oddly deep voice.

“Go make me breakfast.” I ordered.

“Tells you he’s going to puke in your mouth and you lean in for a kiss?” Harry chuckled. “Sexy.”

“Not in his mouth! Not with this breath!” I reminded him. “And I won’t be doing any puking if someone makes me a fry-up.”

A loud Irish groan came from behind the couch again and I heard Niall climbing to his feet. “Where’s Ziam?” he asked as he padded into the kitchen.

“Took a cab home, remember?” Harry yawned. “When you wouldn’t let them fuck in your shower.”

Not-Harry groaned in disgust and let his hand slide down to my bum. The motion brought back a blurry memory from the club the previous night. The six of us dancing in a big group in the middle of the crowded dance floor. Harry twirling me like a ballerina before there were suddenly large firm hands on my hips. Then Not-Harry was spinning me into his chest, dropping his hands to my bum and grinding into me with more purpose than was entirely appropriate for a public setting.

“Need to start the kettle.” I mumbled, pushing slowly to my feet.

I shuffled into the kitchen and tugged on Niall’s t-shirt until he turned his back on his pan of eggs and tucked myself into his chest. His arms circled me without question and he held on tight for longer than the eggs could really tolerate, but he didn’t complain. And when the eggs came out slightly overdone, for once, neither did I.

 

It wasn’t until I dragged myself to the shower later that afternoon that I found it. There, mixed in among the teacups and skateboards. A new doodle.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry it took so long for this update. These boys are keeping me busy! Anyway, here it is -- ENJOY!! X
> 
> UPDATE: Sorry for everyone who read this when it was having formatting issues and/or missing a chunk near the end. It should be fixed now. I hope!

It was raining and miserable for most of the week. Fall was suddenly in full swing and with every gloomy day, I found myself missing the sunny summer days playing footie in the park with Niall more and more. Instead of playing outdoors, though, Not-Harry walked me to his bakery after class on Monday morning and we had hot chocolate and chocolate chip cookies straight out of the oven before he had to start working and I had to get home to work on my music video.

We’d managed to get all the clips we wanted to use copied to a separate folder, we just needed to organize them in the order we wanted and get down to actually editing. And with all the rain, that’s what we spent the next couple of days doing.

It was Friday night when it happened. When everything changed. They say hindsight is twenty-twenty. And they’re right.

We’d found the Styles home blessedly empty after a long, cold week, and had curled up on the living room couch with a pile of blankets, a cup of tea, and a dozen episodes of _The Great British Bake Off_.

Not-Harry laughed and giggled as I asked stupid questions about baking and made fun of the contestants form, even when I had no idea what I was talking about. As always, he put up with my complaining and answered my endless questions with the patience of a saint.

“Can you really get high off nutmeg like they did in _Orange is the New Black_?”

“Never tried it, myself.” He smirked, wrapping me tighter in his strong arms. “But I’ve heard that if you eat a bunch of it, you can achieve a small high followed by a terrible hangover.”

“Want to find out?” I teased, digging my fingers into his ribs.

He squealed and shoved his hands up the bottom of my hoodie in retaliation. Before I knew it, we were in a full-blown, no mercy shown, tickle war, and I was losing.

“NOOO!!!” I screamed, thrashing back and forth, pinned beneath him on the couch. “Not fair! I’m overheating!!” I whined, gripping his wrists tightly. “Let me take off my hoodie and then you can tickle me until I piss meself!”

“Not the sexiest thing you’ve ever said to me, babe.” he smirked, “But I won’t complain about one less layer of clothing between us.”

I shoved him off with a playful pout and tossed my hoodie aside with a huff. “First time all week I haven’t been absolutely freezing.” I complained.

“You’re always cold.” he laughed, pulling me down into his chest and wrapping me in his arms as if I hadn’t just told him I was overheating.

“Not at the moment.” I quipped, digging my fingers into his ribs again.

With another squeal he suddenly flipped us over and hovered over me with darkened eyes. “Maybe you need to lose a couple more layers, hm?” he suggested huskily before dipping to tug at my earlobe with his teeth.

I sighed and tilted my head giving him a bit more room to suck a line down my neck to my collar bone. My fingers threaded into his hair just as he reached my shoulder and suddenly they were pinned above my head.

“God, babe, you’re so--” he paused, leaning back before tilting his head to the side with a small frown. “What’s that?”

“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder curiously.

“Did you get a new tattoo?”

“Oh, this old thing?” I asked casually, holding back the smile tugging at my lips.

“Yeah, _Oops_. When did you get that?”

“Erm, last week?”

“Why?” his he asked with a bemused chuckle.

My stomach flipped at the question. Suddenly, I wasn’t so confident. “What do you mean?”

“What does _Oops_ mean? Why did you get it tattooed on your body?”

“Oh, erm, I er, sort of fell asleep in class last week. Harry wrote on my arm before dropping a book on the floor and startling me awake in front of the whole class.”

“Harry?” Not-Harry frowned.

“Hard to believe, right? He only pretends he’s sweet.” I rolled my eyes playfully, shifting under his weight.

“And you got it tattooed on?” he asked, sitting back on his knees and allowing me to sit up, as well.

“I mean--” I shot a pointed look at the tattoo in question. “--Yeah.”

“Since when is this a game the two of you play?” His tone was off. Irritated.

“Since literally day one.” I deadpanned, pointing at the airplane he drew. “You were there, remember?”

“Yeah, but, I mean… I don’t know. Isn’t it weird? You’re playing games with my brother that _I_ have been playing with him for years.”

“I’ve seen his dick, babe, it doesn’t get much weirder than that.” I laughed, getting up and heading to the bathroom.

I locked the door behind me and bent over the sink, eyes squeezed shut. I felt like hyperventilating. My stomach was in knots, my palms sweating. In an instant, everything had changed. With one confused frown, one questioning arch of a brow so many pieces fell into place. It wasn’t him. 

Time was ticking, and Not-Harry was sure to wonder if something was wrong if I stayed in there too long, so I flushed the toilet, splashed some water on my face, pushed my shoulders back, and strode back out to the living room with as much confidence as I could manage.

“Hey stranger.” Not-Harry smirked at me from the couch.

“Hey.” I smiled as I dropped back down beside him. “What--” I was cut off by his lips on mine as he pushed me back down onto the couch, much like we’d been when he noticed my tattoo. “Not mad anymore?” I chuckled against his lips as his hips settled between mine.

“Wasn’t ever mad.” he murmured in a voice made of silk.

I scoffed, and he swallowed the sound. “Liar.” I retorted, just as the door to the garage opened, paired simultaneously with the sound of the outer garage door rolling down.

“Shit.” Harry’s voice had me shoving his brother off of me in a hurry. “Sorry, didn’t mean to -- erm -- interrupt. Just gonna head to my room.”

“You’re not.” I insisted the same time Not-Harry shot him a smirk and a “Thanks, bro.”

“If you thought I was about to have sex with you on your mum’s suede couch, you would have been sorely disappointed in about thirty more seconds.” I scoffed, pushing him back and turning to place my feet back on the floor. “Seriously, Haz, you’re not interrupting. We were just watching _The Great British Bake Off_. You don’t have to hide away in your room all night, come join us.”

He glanced at his brother over my shoulder before nodding and gesturing down the hallway. “Let me just ditch my stuff, then.”

“So much for a romantic night in.” Not-Harry sighed, letting himself sink back into the couch.

“Quit pouting and make us some cookies, baker boy.” I smiled, poking him in the ribs.

A small smile escaped his full lips and he caught my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Make us some more tea, then?”

“How about hot chocolate?” I countered, “Better with cookies.”

“Cookies?” Harry asked as he rounded the corner.

“And cocoa!” I nodded, getting up off the couch and pulling Not-Harry up with me. I loosened my hold on his hand as he got to his feet intending to let got and follow him to the kitchen, but his hand tightened just enough that mine didn’t go anywhere and he tugged me along beside him.

Harry wandered into the kitchen behind us and began pulling ingredients from the pantry, tossing me a box of hot chocolate mix while Not-Harry pulled a cookie sheet and some other utensils from the cupboards.

I hopped up on the island once I’d set the kettle to boil and watched as they fell into an easy routine, passing measuring spoons and chocolate chips between them until there was a lump of cookie dough in the glass bowl fixed to their mum’s purple mixer.

Then Harry pulled out a scoop and began dropping balls of dough onto the cookie sheet, just as the oven dinged, signalling that it was done preheating.

“Wow.” I shook my head in awe. “You lads have got this down to a science.”

“Years of practice.” Not-Harry chuckled, turning to smirk at me as he stepped between my knees. He leaned in to kiss me just as the kettle whistled and I ducked his lips, planting a smacking kiss on his cheek before shoving him out of the way and hopping down from the counter.

“Who wants marshmallows?” I asked, refusing to look back at either of the boys.

“Didn’t mum buy mini marshmallows the other day?” Harry asked his brother. “Where did she put them?”

“Probably in the pantry.” Not-Harry answered, shuffling away to check, I assumed.

Harry slid up beside me with a spoon as I poured three mugs of hot water, and began pulling packets from the box on the counter. “Okay?” he asked softly.

“Mhmm.” I nodded, accepting the spoon he passed me. He held on when I tried to take it off him, and I glanced up to find his piercing green eyes studying me with an intensity I hadn’t seen much of lately.

“Sure?”

“Found ‘em!” Not-Harry’s voice called from the depths of their huge pantry before there was a thump and a crash as a collection of dry goods landed on the floor. “Shit!” he hissed.

“Alright?” I called, glancing over my shoulder in his direction.

“Yeah.” he grumbled, shoving things back into place, from the sounds of it. “Just knocked my elbow.”

Harry gave the spoon between us a nudge, and when I turned back to him, he arched an eyebrow in question.

“Do you want cocoa, or not?” I smirked. “You’re gonna have to give it up sometime, Styles.”

He held on for one more beat before dropping his hand and reaching for a packet of cocoa, just as his brother emerged from the pantry.

“Here.” he grumbled, tossing the bag across the room, hitting Harry in the back of the head. “There’s your bloody marshmallows.”

“You don’t want any?” I asked as I retrieved the bag from the floor.

“Don’t like them.” he shook his head with a little frown.

“I’m sorry, sir, we can’t be friends anymore!” I exclaimed.

“Breaking up with me over marshmallows?” he pouted, wrapping his arms round me from behind.

“Very serious business.” I nodded, batting Harry’s hand away as he dug a handful out.

“Toldya y’couldn’ truff ‘im!” he exclaimed.

I turned to find that he had deposited the entire handful of marshmallows he’d stolen into his mouth and was grinning stupidly at me as he chewed. “You’re disgusting.” I laughed, tossing another at him before filling two mugs to the brim with mini marshmallows.

Harry turned back to the sink and began cleaning up the mess they’d made and I turned back to the mugs of cocoa. I picked up the lone mallow-less mug and passed it to Not-Harry before scooping up my own and using the spoon I’d stirred them with to dunk my marshmallows under the surface. “You’re missing out.” I teased, shaking my head playfully.

“Missing out on a lot.” he muttered as he lifted his mug to his lips.

A timer on the oven beeped, and I turned back to the boys. “Done, already?”

“Only take thirteen minutes.” Not-Harry shrugged, pulling a plate down from the cupboard while Harry pulled a sheet of perfectly golden brown chocolate chip cookies from the oven.

“If these are half as good as your cupcakes, I’ll marry you both.” My mouth announced before my brain could catch up.

“Tried that once, didn’t work out.” Harry quipped without a seconds’ hesitation.

My eyes widened until he turned around with a dimpled grin and a platter full of gooey cookies.

“Come on, then.” he added, nodding towards the living room before leading the way.

I ended up in the middle between both boys -- a position I was quickly learning was _mine_ \-- with the platter of cookies on my lap. Not-Harry fired up the next episode of _Bake Off_ and we lapsed into more or less silence as they battled it out in the kitchen on the telly. Until someone mentioned nutmeg, and my earlier curiosities were reawakened.

“We decided we’re going to eat a bunch of nutmeg and see if we get high, wanna join?” I asked, nudging Harry in the ribs.

“We are not!” Not-Harry laughed on my other side.

“I’m so here for this.” Harry laughed, ignoring his brother. “Didn’t the meth heads do that on ?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” I exclaimed. “He says he’s heard it works.”

“Followed by a massive hangover from hell!” he reminded me shrilly.

“So basically, it’ll be just like every time we get drunk with Lou.” Harry smirked, reaching for another cookie.

“I’m no stranger to hangovers, Kid.” I chuckled.

“Babe, no. You’re not chugging a ton of nutmeg, that’s disgusting.”

Of course it was disgusting. And, of course I wasn’t going to down a bunch of nutmeg. I wasn’t in prison, and there were far easier ways to get high if I was in the mood. I could smoke a bowl with Niall anytime. But Not-Harry was so easy to rile up. And Harry seemed to be on the same page.

“Nutmeg is delicious!” he insisted. “What are you talking about?”

Not-Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest with a frustrated huff.

“We can do it on our way to the tattoo shop, next time one of us gets caught sleeping.” I added with a nudge and an evil little grin.

“You’re a wanker.” he rolled his eyes, but finally caved and tossed an arm round my shoulders, landing a solid punch to Harry’s in the process.

Harry shifted beside me, putting just an extra inch or two between our thighs on the couch, before sipping at his hot chocolate. “You know what else sounds good, is cobbler.”

“Peach?” Not-Harry asked absently, leaning into my side just a touch closer.

“No! Berry.” Harry scoffed.

“I love berry cobbler!” I groaned. “My mum makes it sometimes with some vanilla ice cream. Ugh! So good.” I sighed.

“We have an ice cream maker, too.”

“I’m starting to get the feeling hanging round bakers all the time is going to affect the size of my arse, significantly.” I chuckled, wrinkling my nose in a pout.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Not-Harry murmured, dipping his head to nip at my shoulder with his teeth.

“Where’s the ice cream maker? In the garage?” Harry pressed.

“Haz, it’s nine o’clock at night. We’re not making a cobbler.” Not-Harry sighed. His fingers hand found their way into my hair, and I couldn’t help but lean into the touch… until Harry cleared his throat, uncrossing his legs, and pushing to his feet.

“I’ll make one. Mum will love some with lunch tomorrow.”

“You do that.” Not-Harry mumbled, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“He seems upset.” I whispered once Harry was out of earshot. I knew it had to be weird for him to hang out with his brother and me, but I didn’t know how to fix that. I wanted him in my life, but I wanted him happy and I didn’t want to come between him and his brother. I was struggling to find a way for all of those things to be true at once.

“He’s fine, I promise.” I turned to ask him how he knew, and collided with his lips. Those aggressive, sexy kisses that were usually such a turn on, were just not working at the moment.

“Babe,” I mumbled against the onslaught of plump lips. “Babe.” I repeated, flattening a hand on his chest.

“Hmm?” he leaned back far enough to frown down at me.

“Babe, can we just, like, hang out? Do you mind?” I winced, knowing this wasn’t going to go over as well as I wanted.

“What do you mean? We are hanging out.”

“I know…” I swallowed hard. “I just, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m just not huge on PDA’s…”

“I have noticed.” he chuckled, shaking his head good-naturedly. “But we’re not in public now, are we?”

He leaned in for another kiss, and I caught him with another hand pressed to the middle of his chest. “Babe, please?” I pled quietly.

“What, _Harry_?” he asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

I gave him a small shrug. “I just don’t want to make it weird.”

“You’ve seen his dick, remember?” he arched an eyebrow as he threw my words back at me. “It doesn’t get much weirder than that.”

I sighed and dropped back on the couch. “I’m not going to apologize. If I’m not comfortable with it, you need to accept that.”

Not-Harry’s shoulders sagged. “I’m not -- I just…” he trailed off, at a loss for words. “You know I would never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, right?” he asked.

“Of course, I do.” I nodded slowly.

“I just wanted to have a nice night with you. I didn’t exactly plan on my brother being here for it. He was supposed to be out.”

“I know.” I sighed. “And maybe I shouldn’t have invited him to hang out with us. But what were we supposed to do? Banish him to his bedroom until we’re done fucking on the couch?”

“I mean,” his lips curved up into a smirk. “We could just go fuck in my bedroom and give him free reign of the rest of the house.”

“Oh my god, babe,” I groaned, “I’ve been out of me mum’s house for way too long to go back to sneaking around to get off.”

He buried his face in my neck in an attempt to muffle his giggles. “Fine.” he chuckled into my collar bone. “But why don’t you at least stay over, yeah? Please?”

His big green eyes were pleading with me, and I couldn’t say no. Didn’t want to, really. “Fine. If you promise to behave yourself.” I added with a stern finger jabbing at his chest.

“I promise.” he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on my cheek, just as Harry cleared his throat loudly on his way back from the kitchen.

“Cobbler’s in the oven.” he announced as we turned back to the tv. “And ice cream’s in the freezer.”

“Already?” I asked.

“I know you have minimal experience in the kitchen,” Harry smirked as he dropped down beside me, “But I think you’re vastly overestimating how long things actually take in the oven.”

“Everything takes _ages_ in the oven!” I insisted, “That’s why God invented microwaves!”

“God, you’re adorable.” Not-Harry grinned, looping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. “I’ll teach you to cook. You’ll be a master chef in no time.”

“Are you secretly a fireman, because that would come in handy.” I deadpanned.

“Didn’t you learn anything from the pancake incident?” Harry laughed, “He’s hopeless!”

“Oi!” I exclaimed, outraged. “I make the best fookin’ tea you’ve ever had, Styles!” I dug into his ribs with my knuckle until he squawked and squirmed as far away as he could on the couch.

“Alight! It’s true! I love your tea!” he laughed.

 

When the cobbler finished in the oven -- forty minutes later! -- Harry brought me a small slice with a scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream oozing over the top, and Not-Harry politely declined his offer for a slice of his own, claiming he preferred peach cobbler over berry.

We watched _Bake Off_ until nearly midnight when Harry yawned and claimed he was exhausted and needed to get to bed. Not-Harry took that as an excuse to drag me back to his bedroom as well, and before I knew it, we were snogging like teenagers on his bed.

“Babe, come on.” I sighed against his lips. I hated to turn down his advances. I _wanted_ him, of course, I just didn’t want to get fucked with Harry on the other side of the wall. “You said you’d behave.” I reminded him as he trailed kisses up my neck.

“I am,” he breathed before nibbling on my earlobe. “If I had my way you’d be naked by now.”

I buried my face in his shoulder to muffle the moan that escaped.

“Just let me be with you a bit.” he murmured, tucking a knee between both of mine. “Let me touch you. Feel you.”

My resolve was crumbling, but I wouldn’t break. Not completely. “Just a bit.” I agreed, lifting his lips back up to mine.

He ground down into me, but kept his hands on the outside of my t-shirt as he twisted my nipple.

I ducked my head to the side and licked a stripe up his neck before sucking that spot under his ear that made him crazy.

A loud moan escaped his lips and I hushed him with another kiss before he rolled, flipping me over so I straddled his hips. His elbow collided with the wall separating his bedroom from Harry’s and he burst out in laughter, loud enough to be heard at the opposite end of the house.

And that’s when I saw it all for what it was. He didn’t care about getting off, and he didn’t care about being with me. He just wanted Harry to hear. Especially since I hadn’t allowed him to see.

I sat back on his thighs and reached for the button on his jeans.

“Thought you didn’t want--” I cut him off with a hand over his mouth.

“Shh.” I ordered, before going back to work on his jeans.

“Let me--” Another hand slapped over his mouth and I shook my head.

“I’m going to blow you. And you’re going to be quiet.”

His voice was muffled against my palm when he tried again. “Loui--”

“Silent.” I amended. “One peep, and it’s over.”

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

I pulled out his half hard cock without bothering to take his jeans off any further than I needed to. His fingers tangled in my hair as I leaned over him and tightened as I took him into my mouth.

I wasn’t surprised when he used that leverage to set his own pace. He’d always been dominant with me in bed. In fact, this was actually the first time he’d allowed me to do anything like this since we’d eliminated Harry from the equation -- or since he’s eliminated himself, as it were.

With every tiny moan or whimper, I stopped. I gave him a harsh look of reprimanding and waited until he was covering his own mouth with both hands silently begging me with those big green eyes.

And just like usual, he passed out within a minute after his orgasm.

“Need to go clean up.” I whispered, dropping a kiss to his cheek before rolling out of bed. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, intending to text Niall that I wouldn't be home, and made my way out to the bathroom.

After cleaning up, I tiptoed down the hallway to the living room and turned for the kitchen. I needed some water. And a minute to breathe.

I'd had an interesting night, to say the least.

I filled a glass with water and leaned back on the counter while I drank. I paused when my eyes landed on a book on the floor in front of the couch.

It hadn't been there all night, had it?

I finished off my water and washed my glass, drying it and putting it back in the cupboard before wandering into the living room. I heard a muffled voice -- tinny and distorted -- and that’s when I noticed Harry, fast asleep on the couch with a pair of earbuds tucked into his ears. His left arm was tucked up behind his head, his right draped loosely over his stomach, and his music was turned up far enough that I could hear it from halfway across the room.

He’d obviously been reading and dropped his book on the floor when he fell asleep. A sick feeling turned my stomach when I realized what he was doing out there.

Not-Harry’s plan had worked. He’d heard us, before I’d shut him up.

I ran a hand through my hair and blew out a hot breath. This is not how things were supposed to be. I didn’t want to come between them. I didn’t want to make them jealous. I just wanted them in my life. Both of them.

My eyes caught a pen on the coffee table and I didn’t even think. Just grabbed it and kneeled beside Harry’s sleeping form.

His skin tugged as I scratched the letters into his creamy flesh and they looked like bloody sanskrit by the time I was done, but Not-Harry was right. He could sleep through anything.

I capped the pen and stepped back just as my phone vibrated in my pocket.

 

_Niall: You coming home tonight?_

 

I stared at the message for a long moment, before turning to head back towards Not-Harry’s bedroom. My thumbs were poised over the letters N and O, when Harry’s voice stopped me.

“Doesn’t count if I wake up.”

I turned back to find him blinking sleepily up at me and I smiled down at him. “Just returning the favor.”

He huffed a little laugh as his eyes drooped closed. “Night, Lou.”

“Night, Love.”

 

_Me: Yeah on my way._

 

I didn’t go back to Not-Harry’s room. I grabbed my hoodie from the end of the couch and turned, instead towards the front door where I’d left my shoes when I’d arrived earlier that evening, and texted Not-Harry on my way out the door.

 

_Me: Got a migraine. Talk tomorrow. X_

 

I crawled in bed with Niall when I got home and curled up against his side.

“Wassa mattah?” he mumbled, wrapping his arm round my shoulders and tugging me in closer.

“Little bit of everything.” I sighed.

He didn’t press any further. Just let me rest my head on his shoulder and cuddle my worries away.

 

Sunday afternoon, Not-Harry invited me over to Zayn and Liam’s flat to see the progress on their pieces for the gallery show. Their flat was even more of a disaster than the first time I visited, and on top of the huge canvas facing the windows, this time there were three more off to the side.

“Vas happenin’!” Zayn called as we weaved through the mess of furniture and general chaos towards the couch pushed up against the patio doors.

“Hiya, mate,” I laughed, giving his fist a little bump as I passed.

“Louis!” Harry exclaimed from two steps up on a ladder beyond Zayn. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” I countered, reaching up to pinch his little love handle. “Are you painting?” I added, nodding to the brush and cup of blue paint in his hands.

“Sort of?” he chuckled awkwardly. “Zayn is outlining everything and I’m just filling them in for him. Trying not to fuck everything up in the process.”

“Fuck off, you’re doing great.” Zayn scoffed as he switched to a smaller brush and went back to work.

“Looks like you’re doing fine to me.” I nodded, stepping back to to take in the canvas as a whole. My knees hit the edge of the couch and I dropped down beside Not-Harry.

“Looks sick, yeah?” he asked, draping his arm round my shoulders.

“Yeah.” I nodded absently. It was absolutely amazing. The photo itself caught my sisters’ personalities perfectly. Daisy -- the sensitive, more emotional one -- was turned slightly to the side with her eyes cast down, while Phoebe -- the defiant protector -- faced the camera full on. They were dressed the exact same: black jeans, white t-shirts, and Vans, with their hair flowing over their shoulders in waves. But, just like in real life, that was where the similarities ended.

Then there was the paintings. Zayn was working on the background behind Daisy’s half, covering every inch of negative space with big green palm leaves. Harry was working on Phoebe’s end, filling in what looked like blue feathers. If you didn’t look close enough, it looked almost like an expanse of wallpaper. This endless pattern of leaves that subtly changed color halfway across the canvas. Except they also subtly changed shape and became feathers somewhere near the middle without breaking the pattern.

If you didn’t look hard enough, you missed it. Just like the girls. It was amazing.

“Are you gonna send a picture to your mum?” Not-Harry asked beside me.

I shook my head slowly. “No way. She’s got to see this in person.”

“They’re coming to the show?” Harry asked, eyes brightening at the thought.

“Yeah,” I chuckled, “The whole family.”

“We get to meet your other sisters, too?”

“Looking for an underaged girlfriend, H?” Not-Harry smirked, up at him.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned back to the canvas before speaking again, ignoring his brother. “It’ll be a fun night, I’m glad they’ll be here for it.”

“Me too.” I nodded. We lapsed into a weird silence for a long moment -- not awkward, necessarily, but not… _not_ awkward -- before I needed to break it. “So, when do I get to see the rest of them?”

“At the show.” All three boys answered in unison.

“You invited me over to see them!” I laughed, nudging Not-Harry in the ribs.

He smirked over at me and shook his head. “You’re not seeing shit until it’s all up in the gallery. You need to get the full effect.”

“Do you have your space all lined up?” I asked excitedly, “Last I heard you hadn’t found one yet!”

“Yeah, we have a friend who’s an artist and has a couple connections, so he hooked us up with a friend of his. It’ll be next Friday night at the gallery on 28th Street.”

“Guess I should let me mum know, yeah?” I chuckled.

“Get your plans together, babe.” He beamed, pulling me into a hug. “I need you there. Aaand… I might need you afterwards, too. To celebrate.” he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Jesus, what happened to that shy little cupcake I met in class?” I asked around a strained laugh, highly aware of how Harry’s back had tensed at his brother’s insinuation. “My boy’s grown up and become a pervert.”

“Don’t pretend you mind.” he chuckled with a cocky smirk to rival his brother’s.

But the thing was… I kind of did.

 

I spent the next few days in a state of confliction. Not-Harry was a great boyfriend. He was attentive and sweet and he was great in bed. There was no question that I was happy with him. Until Harry entered the room. Then he changed into this cocky, possessive jerk that I wasn’t sure I liked.

From day one, the one thing I didn’t want to do, was come between brothers. They were more than brothers, they were best friends. That was one thing I’d never had with my siblings. With such an age gap, it was hard to be _friends_ with them. Lottie was only just getting to the age where I felt like I could have real conversations with her. The boys were lucky to have each other, and I didn’t want to do anything to mess that up.

But in the end, it didn’t matter what I wanted.

I was running early to History on Tuesday morning, and decided to stop off for a cuppa on the way. The rain from last week had finally let up, but there was a biting wind hanging on, announcing fall with a vengeance.

I was waiting on my order off to the side in the campus coffee shop when I heard a couple of familiar voices bickering behind me.

“You’ve got to have a party, mate!”

“I haven’t _got_ to do anything.”

“Harry?” I smiled, making my way over to a table in the corner I hadn’t been able to see on my way in. “Zayn? What are you doing here?”

Harry looked up from his conversation and smiled as I reached his side. “Hey, you. We were just having an early lunch before classes.” He glanced down at his watch and winced. “Guess I’d better start thinking about heading out, yeah?”

“Pretty quick, here, yeah.” I agreed.

“Lou, tell Harry he’s got to have a housewarming party!” Zayn demanded.

“Housewarming?” I frowned.

Harry sighed and shot Zayn a reproachful look before turning back to me. “Yeah, I, er, got myself a flat. Well. It’s like, a studio. It’s tiny, which is the main reason I do _not_ plan on having a party,” he added to Zayn as he got to his feet and began gathering the remnants of his lunch for the rubbish. “But it’ll be nice to have my own place, small as it is. I get the keys Friday.”

My stomach sank as he wandered off in search of a bin, but I didn’t have time to chase after him. My name was being called at the counter and we had five minutes until the start of class. The good news was, he was stuck next to me in class for the next hour and a half, and I planned to take full advantage.

We waved Zayn off outside the cafe and headed out across the quad to the old brick building where we’d first met. I didn’t give Harry even a minute of peace before laying into him.

“Why are you moving?”

“Because I want to.” he shrugged easily.

“It’s not because, like--”

“No.” Harry shook his head, shooting me a smile I couldn’t quite believe. “It’s not. I’ve been saving for my own place for months.”

“Why?” I asked, again. “I mean, you’ve kind of got it made at the moment, don’t you? If I could live at home for free while I was in Uni, I’d probably still be there. And I mean, your parents are great. Obviously, since all of you still live at home, right?”

“Gem doesn’t. Not really.” When I lifted a questioning brow his way he elaborated. “She lives with her boyfriend, but like _unofficially_.” he rolled his eyes. “She says it’s too fast to move in together, and she doesn’t want to rush it and all, but she’s there about five nights a week. She comes home the nights he works late, and does laundry. Both their laundry. They’re practically married. So really, it’s just my brother and me.”

“And soon it will just be him.” I concluded, dropping my gaze to the grass under our feet.

“Hey.” Harry caught my hand and pulled me to a stop. When I looked up at him, he had a fire in his eyes I didn’t expect to see. “You haven’t done anything wrong, Lou. I can see you blaming yourself for this. Don’t. This has been the plan all along. I’ve had the money saved.”

“So, why _now_ , then?” I pressed. “You’ve never mentioned a thing, then suddenly you’ve got a flat somewhere?”

He dropped my hand and ran his through his hair with a defeated sigh. “Fine. I need some space from my brother right now, alright?” I opened my mouth to… I don’t know, apologize? Argue? But he cut me off. “It’s not your fault, Louis. I’ve got ears, our house isn’t that big. I could hear you the other night, when you told him to back off and he didn’t listen. You told him you didn’t want to make me uncomfortable, and looking back, you’ve been doing that a lot. Looking out for my feelings, I mean. When we were bowling, and every time we’ve all hung out as a group? You’re always conscious of it, and do everything you can to not shove your relationship in my face. I want you to know that I see what you’ve been doing, and I appreciate it, Lou. I really do. You are not the problem. You aren’t the one turning into a possessive arse everytime I enter a room, okay?”

“But it’s my _fault_ he’s being a twat to you.” I whined petulantly.

“Do you get along with your sisters twenty-four seven?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me.

My mind flashed back to the battles we waged over morning mirror time and hot water growing up and I exhaled a laugh. “Definitely not. Not when we were younger, at least. It’s better now. But Haz, I’ve never had what you and him have. I’ve never been close like that with them.”

“It doesn’t matter, though.” he shrugged. “You didn’t stop arguing with your sisters because you all grew up. They haven’t grown up, yet. And I bet they still rip each other’s hair out from time to time.”

“Understatement.” I scoffed.

“See?” he shrugged. “Siblings don’t argue less as they grow up because they get more mature. It doesn’t matter how old we get, my brother and sister know how to push my buttons better than anybody on this planet, and they’ll never stop doing it just to get a rise out of me. The reason you argue less now, is because you see them less. You spend the time you do get together catching up and appreciating each other’s company until someone makes a snarky comment and everybody turns into a child again. That’s how it is with Gemma now she’s gone.”

He was right, I knew he was. It didn’t help my twisted gut feel any better though. “So what you’re saying is if you see your brother less often, he won’t be such a dick to you all the time.”

“I mean, hopefully, yeah.” he shrugged.

“And seeing _me_ less, will give him less reason.” I finished quietly, dropping my gaze to the cross hanging round Harry’s neck.

“Hey.” he said, reaching out and lifting my chin until I was looking him in the eye again. “I don’t plan on seeing you any less than I do now, okay? We have classes together, and you promised me you’d help me run lines for the play, and we have a mutual best friend named Niall James Horan who I need to cuddle _at least_ twice a week, so stop pouting. I don’t plan on changing anything between you and me. This is one hundred percent between Marcel and me.”

“Wait.”

“Fuck.”

“Marcel?!” I exclaimed.

“Shhh!” Harry hissed, clamping a hand over my mouth. “He’ll hear you!”

I yanked his hand away with both of mine. “No wonder he wouldn’t tell me his name!”

“It’s a family name!” he giggled in return.

“ _Marcel_ , though?” I groaned, dropping my forehead to his chest, our hands still joined between us.

“Fuck, he’s going to kill me...”

I spent a solid thirty seconds laughing into Harry’s chest before sobering enough to lift my gaze back up to his, holding it for a long moment while I caught my breath. “You’re not doing this to get away from me?” I asked quietly.

Harry’s eyes dipped to the ground and he did that thing I’d been noticing more and more often, where he pursed his lips and scrunched his nose. He usually did it around Not-Harry (Marcel! What the fuck!). Like he was trying to hide a smile or laugh. “No, Lou. In case you hadn’t noticed, getting away from you is kind of the last thing on my mind.”

“Good.” I grinned.

“So… I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but we’re late for class.” he sighed, giving my hand a squeeze where I still had it clutched in both of mine. “We should probably get going.”

“Yeah…” I nodded, finally letting him go and taking half a step back. “I’m sure you’ve got more terrible History jokes for me, yeah?”

“Terrible? Never.” he smirked, throwing his arm over my shoulder and turning us back in the right direction. “But I can probably come up with a great one.”

“Sure you can.” I rolled my eyes, but pressed my body just a little bit closer to the side of his. It was definitely because the wind picked up and not any other reason. Really.

Our professor, bless her, didn’t bat an eye when we finally took our seats, instead carrying on with her lecture on ancient Rome. We were only about ten minutes late, but she was already on a roll, and didn’t feel the need to stop, apparently.

I settled in and pulled out my laptop for some notes as Harry did the same beside me, and for the first five or ten minutes, I was actually paying attention. And then the guilt crept back in.

It didn’t matter what Harry said. True or not, I had still come between them. I had still caused this rift where there hadn’t been one before. And he could make all the promises in the world, but would he really keep talking to me? He was trying to distance himself from his brother. His brother whom I was dating. How could he distance himself from him without changing anything between us?

He must have noticed my distress, because suddenly he was leaning over. “How to you make a Caesar salad?”

“How?” I asked absently, eyes glued to the notes on my laptop that hadn’t changed in fifteen minutes.

“Stab it twenty-three times.”

My eyes fell closed as I shook my head in disbelief. “That was actually, genuinely terrible.”

“I think I could have done better, yeah.” he chuckled. “But you were looking like you were over thinking, and I needed to come up with something quick before you convinced yourself I won’t be around anymore. Because I will be. I promise.”

My head dropped to his shoulder and he slumped down in his seat, apparently finished with his attempt at note-taking for the day. His arm laid on the rest between us and I hooked mine through the crook of his elbow.

I spotted a sharpie sticking out of the front zip on my bag and reached for it. Harry watched as I began drawing on his arm. He didn’t stop me, even though it was permanent marker. Just watched as I drew a circle, then another. Then a couple of lines down his forearm. I didn’t even know what I was doing. Just fucking doodling. But he didn’t stop me.

By the time I capped my marker again, I had a headache from the smell. But the anchor on Harry’s wrist was only slightly wonky. Not half bad!

“What are you doing after this?” he asked quietly. More quietly than he usually bothered to speak during a lecture.

I shrugged. “Think I’m going to dinner with… Marcel.” I smirked. “But he doesn’t get off work until five.”

“Come somewhere with me?” he asked, meeting my gaze with a bit of uncertainty.

“Sure.” I nodded.

 

It wasn’t until we were walking across campus, hoods pulled up against the wind, that I realized I hadn’t even asked where we were going. It didn’t really matter, though. I let him lead me past the cafe where we’d met that morning -- the same one we’d gone to with Marcel the day I discovered there were two gorgeous Styles boys on this planet. We rounded the corner and wandered down a few more blocks, and soon enough we reached another familiar destination. It was the tattoo shop Harry had taken me to that same day. When I’d gotten the paper airplane tattooed on my arm.

“Getting something new?” I asked as he opened the door and waved me in ahead of him.

“Got an idea, yeah.” he nodded.

“Harry!” Tom, the artist we’d seen last time beamed from the doorway beyond the front desk.

“Hiya, mate.” Harry smiled, leaning on the counter. “Got time for a walk in?”

“Always got time for you.” he nodded. “Come on back.”

Again, Harry waved me ahead of him, and I followed Tom back to his station, only to be greeted with a small voice.

“Hazza!”

“Lux!” he beamed, slipping round me and dropping to his knees in front of the little girl perched on a stool at Tom’s desk. “How are you, love?” he asked, pulling her into a big hug.

“Good.” she beamed. “Look what I made daddy!”

He pulled back and looked at the paper laid out on the desk in front of her. “Wow, that’s amazing! Is it a mermaid?”

“Yeah!” Lux beamed. “Do you want it?”

“Really feeling the love, kid.” Tom pouted beside me.

Harry burst out laughing and shook his head. “I think you should give it to your daddy.” then he lifted his left arm and pulled up his sleeve revealing the sharpie anchor and rolled his arm to the side. “I’ve got my own mermaid, remember?”

“Can I color it?”

“Babe, he’s here for more tattoos.” Tom cut in before Harry had to flounder for an excuse. It was a trick I was familiar with. Niall hated to tell Ernie and Doris no, so sometimes I took mercy and did it for him.

“Oh.” Lux deflated. “Okay.”

“Do you want to meet my friend, though?” Harry asked. “He’s got loads of tattoos too, and I bet if you asked really nicely, he might let you color his in.”

Lux eyed me cautiously for a moment before hopping off her stool and stepping up in front of me. “Hi, my name is Lux.”

“Hello, Lux.” I grinned, crouching down to her level. “My name is Louis.”

“Lou?” she asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“Yeah, you can call me Lou.” I chuckled.

“That’s my mum’s name. Can I color your tattoos?”

“Sure.” I chuckled, undoing the buttons on my coat.

“Louis met your mum once.” Harry commented as he sat in the chair Tom pointed out to him. “And your Auntie Sammy.”

“Auntie Sammy was supposed to keep her today, but she’s got food poisoning, so--” Tom shrugged, “--here we are.”

“Where’s Lou?” Harry asked.

“Out of town for a conference until Thursday.” he explained, rolling his stool closer to Harry’s, before adding in Lux’s direction, “Babe, let Louis sit there, yeah? You can sit on the desk.”

“Can you help me up?” Lux asked, and when I looked down at her, her big blue eyes were staring up at me.

“Oh, er, yeah, of course.” I chuckled. Apparently we had reached that level very quickly. I pushed her drawing out of the way before lifting her up to sit on the edge of the desk, then pulled up a seat in front of her. “Give me everything you’ve got, Lux.” I smiled, straightening my arms out across her lap.

As she pulled a purple marker from her coffee mug of colors, I turned my attention back to Harry and Tom.

“How long were you sleeping, mate?” Tom was laughing.

“Nah, I was awake this time.” Harry chuckled.

When I realized what they were looking at, my eyes bulged. “You’re getting that?!”

Harry glanced up at me with a shy smile and shrugged. “I like it.”

“Harry, you said it yourself, it doesn’t count if you’re awake.”

“My body, my decision.” he countered stubbornly. And who was I to argue? It’s just...

“Fine,” I sighed turning pleading eyes on Tom, “Can you at least make it look good, though? It looks like shit right now.”

“Heeyyy!” Harry pouted, hugging his wrist to his chest as if it might get its feelings hurt.

“I’ll clean up the lines, and keep the essence of it, how bout that?” Tom laughed.

When it looked like Harry was going to argue further, I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, and pouted my lip out.

“I guess, I can live with that.” he sighed, scrunching his nose the way he’d done earlier and dropping his arm on the table in front of Tom.

Over the next hour and a half, my skull and crossbones got done up with red lipstick and purple eyeshadow. My pigeon was turned rainbow -- which, who’s complaining? My compass was blue and green with a man inside, and all of my little doodles were filled in.

“Let’s see it then!” Harry beamed while Tom cleaned up his arm once he’d finished.

Lux pulled my hand up in the air to showcase her artwork and Harry and Tom ooh’d and ahh’d over it.

“Let’s see yours, then!” I laughed, helping Lux down off the desk.

Harry’s cheeks dimpled as he extended his his arm between us.

“Wow.” I breathed. “It looks great, mate.” I added to Tom.

“Thanks.” he nodded, holding up a length of bandage. “Come on, H.” He gave Tom his wrist and he shook his head. “I would tell you how to take care of it, but I think you’ve got it handled by now. Your last one hasn’t even healed up yet, has it?” he smirked.

“Not quite.” Harry chuckled.

“When did you get another?” I frowned.

“What was that, Saturday morning?” Tom asked. “Showed up the minute I opened the door.”

My stomach fluttered in anticipation as I asked the next logical question. “What did you get?”

Harry was wearing a short sleeved Hawaiian shirt over a white t-shirt -- Because the weather was so tropical -- and slowly lifted his right hand to pull back the sleeve. And there, on his inner left bicep, was a small, fresh scratch of ink.

“Looks like bloody sanskrit.” I teased in a voice that didn’t sound like my own.

Harry’s nose did the thing again. The scrunchy thing. And my stomach did a flip flop.

“You said it doesn’t count if you wake up.” I reminded him for the second time in a day.

“My body, my decision.” he repreated.

I shook my head in disbelief, but I couldn’t help the small, fond smile that crept across my lips as we headed back up to the front to pay, trailed by Tom and Lux.

“What time are you off tonight?” Harry asked Tom.

“Switched my shift when Sam got sick, so I’m off at eight.”

“You want me to take Lux until then?” he offered.

Tom shot a glance in my direction and shrugged. “She’s fine here if you’re busy. It’s Tuesday. Not a lot going on.”

“Lou’s got a date with Marcel in an hour, so I’m free all night.” Harry smiled. “Come on, it’s been ages since I’ve had a proper hang with my lady, right, Lux?”

“Yeah!” she cheered. “Please, Daddy?”

“Alright, alright, but if Harry says you haven’t minded him, you’re not going to the park with us tomorrow. You’ll have to stay home while I go have fun.”

“I’ll be good!” she promised desperately.

Harry and I exchanged a grin before Tom gave in and bent to give her a kiss and hug goodbye.

“Wanna go get a cupcake?” Harry asked excitedly as he took her hand and led her out of the shop.

“Yesss!!!” she exclaimed, skipping along between us.

The bakery was only two blocks away, and I was due to meet Marcel there when he got off anyway, so I tagged along, intending to hang out with Harry and Lux until he got off.

Harry opened the door and allowed Lux to run inside before pausing and turning to me. “Hey, erm, don’t tell Marcel I slipped and told you his name, yeah? I think he wanted to be the one.”

“I’ll act surprised,” I agreed. “Promise.”

He shot me a couple of dimples before reopening the door and waving me through.

“Hey…” Marcel quirked an eyebrow at me over Lux’s head. Then the door shut behind me and his eyes narrowed. “Oh, Haz. Hey.”

“I heard you had a date tonight, so I picked up one of my own.” he supplied with an easy smile, nodding at Lux who had her face pressed against the display case.

Marcel glanced over at her before nodding slowly. “What have you been up to?” he asked, eyes landing on me, next.

“Getting some new ink.” I joked, pushing up my coat sleeve to reveal my rainbow pigeon. “I don’t know if you know, but Lux here is quite the artist.”

“Yeah, she is.” he agreed softly.

“Got me a new one from Tom,” Harry explained, lifting his bandaged wrist as evidence. “He had Lux at the shop with him today, so I offered to take her until he’s off.”

“And you went with him?” He asked, eyes shifting back to me.

I knew he wasn't happy that I'd hung out with Harry, but I refused to apologize for it. “Yeah, we just left straight from class.” I nodded, meeting his gaze head on.

Harry broke the tense silence with an overly cheerful smile. “What kind of cupcake do you want, love?”

Lux turned back to him at the question and grinned. “Purple.”

“Lemon and blueberry? Does that sound good?” He asked, making his way around the counter to pull it out for her while Marcel stood still at the register. He hadn't moved since we arrived.

“Anyway,” I continued calmly. “I didn’t have anything going on, so figured I’d hang out and wait for you to get off work.”

“Wait for me?” he asked with a hint of challenge in his voice. It was a challenge I wouldn’t accept, though.

“Yeah,” I smiled. “Thought we were going to dinner tonight? You didn’t forget, did you?” I added, reaching across the counter separating us to poke his tummy playfully.

“Nah, I didn’t forget.” he sighed. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’d kill for some pizza.” I sighed.

“Think I’m feeling like seafood.” he countered with a too-casual shrug.

“We could go to that Italian place by Zayn and Liam’s flat.” I suggested, “Have you been there? Seafood pasta? They have a fettuccine with scallops that’s amazing. And personal pizzas.”

The bell over the door behind me rang as a new customer came in -- a real customer -- and Marcel sighed in resignation. “Sounds great.” he nodded reluctantly. “I should take this.”

A nudge to my side had me looking down into Lux’s smiling face. “Are you having cupcakes too?”

“Of course he is! He’s not a monster!” Harry exclaimed before I had a chance as he came around the end of the counter with a plate of cupcakes. “Come on, let’s sit by the window.”

I gave Marcel a little smile before joining Harry and Lux at a table.

“Have you tried the Irish Car Bomb cupcake?” Harry asked, handing me a chocolatey one.

“I feel like you’re mistaking me for Neil right now, but I’ll give it a try.” I laughed.

For the next forty-five minutes, Harry and I talked to Lux about school and her friends and her mum and everything else that was going on in the five year old’s very exciting life. And every time I looked up, Marcel was watching us carefully. But at some point over the past few hours, I had decided I wasn’t going to let him dictate my friendship with Harry, and I stuck to my guns.

By the time he got off work, he was visibly angry, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I hoped that if he saw I could be friends with Harry and date him in the same sitting, he would eventually become okay with it.

“Ready to go eat?” I asked with a cheerful smile when he emerged from the back room at the end of his shift.

“Yeah, ready.” he nodded.

“Thanks for today.” Harry smiled getting to his feet as well. “I had fun.”

“Me too.” I heard Marcel’s throat clear behind me as I leaned up, wrapping Harry in a hug.

“Have fun.” he added as we parted.

“You too.” I grinned before turning to Lux, “And, _you_ keep him out of trouble, yeah?”

“I will!” she laughed before barreling into my stomach and wrapping her arms round my waist.

I patted her back with a laugh and caught Harry smiling fondly at us before letting her go and turning back to Marcel. “Well? Let’s hit it.”

“Ready, then?” he asked coolly.

“Lead the way.” I smiled, waving him towards the door. I didn’t expect him to take it literally. But he did.

“You know my legs are like eight feet shorter than yours, don’t you?” I panted, reaching out and catching him by the arm before he had a chance to storm across the third crosswalk in a row. “Wait up, I’m dying here!”

He stopped suddenly, and turned just in time for me to collide with his broad chest. “You’ve never had a problem keeping up with me before.” he he shrugged as I caught my footing -- all on my own, thanks.

“Never had my boyfriend sprinting down the street away from me before.” I quipped in return. I was doing my best to lift his mood, but it was starting to feel like his bad mood was dragging me down instead.

“You said you wanted pizza. I was just trying to get you there.”

“I mean, if you’d rather be somewhere else, be my guest.” I countered, planting my hands on my hips.

“We had plans, I’m not going to bail on them.” he sighed, turning back towards the street. “Come on.”

We finished our walk to the restaurant in silence, but at least he wasn’t sprinting away from me anymore. We were seated in a back corner, away from most of the other patrons and I had a feeling our relative isolation would be a blessing. Marcel’s mood was not improving, and I didn’t know how much longer this stalemate could last.

We ordered drinks and browsed the menu in silence until the waitress came back to take our orders.

“I’ll have the personal size meat and sausage pizza, please.” I gave her a polite smile as I passed over my menu and turned to Marcel.

“And I’ll take the eggplant parm. Thanks.” his smile was tight as he handed over his menu and turned back to me, reaching for his drink.

“Thought you wanted seafood.” I commented lightly, swirling the ice in my cup with my straw.

“Changed my mind.” he shrugged.

“Okay.” I sighed. “How was work today?”

“Fine, thanks.”

I waited a long moment before sighing for what felt like the hundredth time since we’d left the bakery. “My day was delightful, if you’re wondering.”

“I bet it was.”

“You didn’t tell me Tom was Lou’s ex.” I continued, ignoring the jab.

“Yep.”

“Lux is amazing, though. She colored all my tattoos in while H was getting his.” I rotated my arm to look at the six games of Knots and Crosses we’d played beside my tattoo of the game.

“What did he get?” he asked with forced indifference.

“Mrs. Louis Tomlinson.”

Marcel’s eyes narrowed and he dropped his hands to his lap, sitting up straighter in his chair. “That’s not funny.”

“Clearly.” I deadpanned. “Seriously, will you tell me what I’ve done to piss you off so we can move past it and enjoy our meal?”

“You haven’t done anything.” His eyes narrowed challengingly and suddenly I knew we weren’t talking about anything I’d done to piss him off.

“You know nothing happened.” I scoffed.

“Do I?”

“He’s my _friend_.” I explained as patiently, yet forcefully as possible. “We were friends before we were dating, and we’re going to stay friends. You need to find a way to be okay with that.”

“And what if I can’t?” he asked, brow crinkled. “What if I don’t want you spending time with him?”

“You can’t tell me who to be friends with.”

“So be friends with him,” he groaned, running a hand over his face, “Just be friends with him the way you’re friends with Zayn and Liam. You’ve never felt the need to spend an entire afternoon with either of _them_ on your own. Just keep it to group situations and I can be okay with it.”

“Can you? Because you weren’t exactly enthusiastic when _Niall_ invited him to our flat.”

“Okay, then be friends with him in groups, _in public_ , and I’ll find a way to deal. All of us at the pub on the weekend, or whatever.” he sighed, growing more and more agitated as the conversation progressed.

“You know, I’ve been struggling with this since about Friday,” I sighed, sagging back in my chair, “And I just don’t know what to do about it, anymore.”

“Struggling with what?” he frowned.

“You!” I exclaimed, louder than I meant to before continuing at a slightly more appropriate level. “You and your jealousy. You’re like the sweetest guy I’ve ever known, but the minute Harry enters a room you turn into this possessive caveman, pawing me like a piece of meat. It’s not okay. We can’t be like this.”

“I only turn into a caveman, because you turn into this little vixen!” I gasped at the accusation, but he soldiered on. “You’re all eyelashes and arsecheeks and he’s drooling over you like a fucking dog in heat!”

“You’re impossible.” I seethed. “He’s not _drooling over me!_ He’s moving out of your fooking house to give us space! He’s sick of watching you try to _inhale my face_ every time he comes around! He’s not causing problems! He’s going out of his way to alleviate them, and all you can see is your jealousy!”

“All I see is you flirting with my brother, and then turning round to fuck me!” he growled.

“That’s it.” I tossed my napkin on the table and jumped to my feet, reaching for my wallet. “I’m not going to sit here and be accused of shit I haven’t done. Have a lovely night.”

I threw a wad of cash onto the table and grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair before storming past the waitress who’d just arrived with our food.

 

“Jesus, what the fuck happened?” Niall asked with wide eyes as I slammed the door to our flat.

I groaned and flopped face down onto the couch. “Everything!”

I knew my voice was muffled by the cushion, but somehow he understood me. “Tell me what happened.” he pressed, nudging my shoulder with his toe.

I dragged my body up off the couch and leaned against the back with a sigh. “It’s Mmm…are you watching _Love Island_?” I asked, catching sight of the telly for the first time since I stormed through the door.

“Forget that,” he waved me off without an ounce of shame. “What happened? I thought you had a date with Not-Harry tonight?”

“Marcel.” I sighed.

“He finally told you?” he grinned. “Fuck, do you know how hard it was to keep that from you? _Marcel!!_ ” he screeched before doubling over in laughter.

A small smile quirked my lips, but Niall’s antics just weren’t quite enough to make me forget the last hour. “Nah, Harry accidentally let it slip this morning. Did you know he’s moving? He got a flat. Moves is this weekend.”

“No shit? And he didn’t tell us?”

“He said he needs some space from Marcel because he’s sick of watching him turn into a possessive prick every time I come around.”

“That is getting pretty old, yeah.” Niall admitted with a wince.

“After Friday night I was just… uncertain.” I sighed. I hadn’t told Niall that I figured out the truth about the night in the pub toilets. But by Saturday afternoon, I had finally caved and told him how much of a jerk Marcel had been that night. “We have so much fun when we hang out. But only until Harry shows up, then it’s all about who’s cock is bigger and I can’t handle that.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” he replied quietly.

“Then what am I supposed to do?”

“What happened tonight?” he asked, backtracking to my original problem. I’d almost forgotten there was a reason I was that pissed off at the moment.

I groaned and dropped my head onto the back of the couch. “Harry got a new tattoo today. He invited me to come along with him after class, and since I had a few hours to kill until Marcel got off work, I tagged along. Then we headed back to the bakery and he looked like he wanted to deck Harry. Then he was a passive aggressive dick until I finally called him out on it and he told me I could only hang out with Harry in public, group situations, and called me a vixen. So I walked out of the restaurant and... here I am.” I ended with a flourish of my hands.

“So, what are you going to do?” he asked.

I shrugged, dropping my gaze to my lap where my hands were fidgeting with the zip on my coat. “Let him cool off, I guess. Talk to him when he’s ready and see if we can’t work it out.”

Niall have my knee a squeeze before pushing up to his feet. “In the meantime, are you hungry, since you walked out on dinner? I ordered a pizza earlier. It should be here any minute.” he added over his shoulder on his way to the kitchen.

“I’ve been dying for pizza all day!” I groaned, this time in a much more positive light. And when he returned from the fridge with a couple of beers, I wanted to kiss him. “You are the best friend in the entire world, Niall Horan.”

“I know.” he beamed.

 

Marcel wasn’t in class in the morning. Not only did it make me wonder how mad he actually was at me, but it also forced me to pay attention and take notes, since I didn’t have anything else to do. All around, it was a shit way to spend my morning.

And yet, I was oddly unsurprised to see him leaned against the wall outside the building when we were excused at the end of class.

He pushed off the wall as I approached and shoved his hands deep into his pockets with an uncertain expression adorning his gorgeous face. “Hey.” he began.

“Hey.” I replied. “Where were you this morning?”

“Home.” he shrugged. “I, er, wanted to talk to you. Apologize for yesterday. I just didn’t want to have to sit next to you for an hour and a half pretending everything was okay, first.”

I nodded in understanding, but didn’t offer anything else.

“Look, would you want to get a coffee -- or tea -- and talk?” He looked like he hadn’t slept the night before, but to be honest, I hadn’t either. I was dressed in joggers and two jumpers with a beanie pulled down over my ears against the wind that hadn’t let up all night. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and I just wanted this conversation to be over -- for better or worse.

“Yeah.” I finally nodded. “Come on.”

We ordered drinks and sat by the window in awkward silence until our names were called before he cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry, Louis.” he sighed, eyes on the cup of coffee between his large hands. “I said some things yesterday that were… Well, I regret saying them.”

“But you meant them.” I concluded.

“I was an arse.” he frowned, ignoring my comment. “You were right, I was jealous, and I can’t change that. But I can change how I deal with it.”

“You’re not happy with me.” I said it like a statement. Because to me, it wasn’t a question anymore.

“You make me so happy, Louis.” he sighed.

“But the situation doesn’t.”

“I can get past it.”

“Can you?”

“Yes!”

“How? It’s not going to change,” I shrugged. “I can’t change what’s already happened, and I won’t stop being friends with Harry. There’s nothing wrong with the way we spend time together. I need someone who trusts me. Who doesn’t get jealous of every little thing. I know why it’s hard, and I understand, but you’re not dating Nick anymore. You’re dating me, and I’ve never given you any reason to believe that I’d treat you that way.”

“Besides the fact you _actually did_ have a threesome with my brother and me.” he scoffed.

“If you’ll remember correctly,” I replied in my best attempt at staying calm. “I wasn’t the one to start that.”

“What are we five?” he rolled his eyes. “ _He started it, so it’s not my fault?_ ”

“Yeah. Among other things.” I bit out.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“ _He’s not yours, he’s mine?_ Sound familiar? Or how about _I win, you lose_?”

Another scoff, and his arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

“I’m not a prize to be won.” I sighed with a shake of my head. “I’m a person with feelings. I gave this a real shot, but I just don’t think I can do this anymore.” I dropped my head and took a deep breath, willing away the lump that was beginning to form in my throat. “I care about you so much. And you make me so happy when you don’t let all the other shit get to you. But you have some things you need to work through on your own before you can make a relationship work with anybody, me included.”

“You can’t really be ending this.” he deadpanned. The fact he looked slightly offended as opposed to heartbroken eased my guilt just a little bit.

“I… I think I am.” I hadn’t woken up that morning planning on ending things, but now that it was happening, it felt like the only choice. “There’s only so much I can do to reassure you that I’m here; I’m in this. If you can’t accept that, I can’t do anything for you. I care about you, but I can’t keep doing this. And I shouldn’t have to.” Without another word, I got up, turned to leave, when his voice stopped me.

“Marcel.”

“What?” I turned back to find him staring down into his latte.

“My name is Marcel.”

My chest ached. “I’m sorry, Marcel.”


	10. Chapter 10

“What do you mean you have a date?!” I whined, dropping my head to the table in front of me.

“You know, where you pick someone up, take ‘em to dinner, go see a movie, and hopefully take them to bed after?” he smirked.

“Wait. Last time you told me you had a date, you were lying. Are you lying again?” I asked, sitting up to narrow my eyes at him.

“No,” he chuckled as he dug through the fridge. “I’ve got an actual date with an actual girl, this time.”

“NIALL!” I groaned, resuming my pouting position at the kitchen table. “I needed you tonight!”

“You don’t need me.” he rolled his eyes -- I didn’t have to look to know. “If you actually need an escape plan, text me and I’ll be there in five minutes to bail you out. I’m taking her to that Mexican place down the street from the pub. And the movie theater is only four blocks away. If you _need_ me, I’ll be there. But I promise you’re making a bigger deal out of it than you need.”

I rolled my head to the side and pushed out my bottom lip. “How do you know?”

“Because even if Not-Harry didn’t know how to be a good boyfriend, he’s not a bad guy. He’s not going to be a dick all night. You know Harry and Ziam wouldn’t let him, even if he wanted to.”

That was fair. “You know we can call him by his real name now, right? He told me when we broke up.”

Niall’s nose wrinkled as he shook his head. “Nah. Feels weird. He’ll always be Not-Harry to me.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “That was probably part of the problem, in hindsight.”

“Anyway, I’m going out with Ellie, you’re going out with the boys, and we’re both going to have fun, yeah?” he clapped me on the back before setting a plate in front of me with a breakfast burrito on it.

“Yes, mum.” I sighed, digging into my meal.

 

Niall was out getting a haircut before his date when I was presented with a legitimate reason to cancel.

 

_Lottie: I hear you got dumped._

_Me: I think technically I did the dumping thanx_

_Lottie: Sure you did. Either way, works out perfectly for me._

_Me: Do you plan on elaborating?_

_Lottie: Well you’re probs planning on staying home moping yeah?_

_Me: If I can manage it._

_Lottie: Good._

_Me: Why?_

_Lottie: I’m coming._

_Me: Coming?_

 

There was a knock at the door before I had time to wonder what she meant, and I heaved myself up off the couch. Another impatient one sounded and I shouted back and “Keep your pants on, I’m ‘ere!” before swinging it open to reveal -- “Lots!”

“Hi!” she trilled, leaping into my arms without warning. 

“What are you doing here?” I laughed, stumbling backward, but squeezing her tight nonetheless.

“We’re moving in!” A deeper voice laughed, and I looked up to find Tommy dropping two bags inside the door.

“Who invited you?” I smirked, releasing my sister to pull her boyfriend in for a hug next.

“Been too long since we’ve seen you.” Lottie grinned. “Figured we’d come cheer you up and go job hunting tomorrow.”

“Job hunting?” I asked, eyebrows skyrocketing up under my fringe. “You mean it’s actually happening?”

“I told you we’re moving in!” Tommy laughed.

“We’re hoping to move down next month, so thought we’d spend the weekend job hunting and crash with you.” Lottie explained.

“And you didn’t think to call first? What if I had plans?” I demanded.

“You got dumped, I knew you’d be wallowing.” she waved me off before turning on her heel and heading towards the kitchen. “We brought dinner!”

“I did the dumping!” I insisted before following her.

 

_Harry: You’re coming out tonight, yeah?_

_Me: Can’t actually. Sorry._

_Harry: Marcel bailed. Didn’t want to see you._

_Me: Is that supposed to make me feel better?_

_Harry: It’s supposed to convince you to come out with us._

_Me: I honestly can’t tonight. Something came up. Next time I promise._

 

When another knock sounded on the door twenty minutes later, I narrowed my eyes at my sister as I backed towards it. “Who else did you invite?”

“We put out a Craigslist ad for you.” Tommy smirked over his shoulder.

“I’ll kill you!” I shouted, spinning and yanking the door open only to come face to face with-- “Harry!”

He frowned at me for a moment before glancing over my shoulder. “Hey, Lou…”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, propping my hip against the doorframe.

He lifted his shoulder in a sort of half-shrug, before running his hand through his hair. “I, erm, I had this speech planned. But I think I got it wrong. I should probably go...”

A slow smile spread across my face and I shook my head. “What kind of speech?” I asked.

“It was stupid. I just--”

“Give me the speech, Harold! You came all the way over here, you’re not leaving until I get the speech!”

“Who’s at the door?” Tommy shouted from the kitchen.

“My Craigslist date!” I called over my shoulder before turning back to Harry. “You were saying?”

“You’ve got company…” he hedged. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just--”

“Harold. Speech. Now.” I pinned him with my most menacing stare (that quickly dissolved into a grin) but seemed to do the trick anyhow, since the next second his cheeks tinged pink and he huffed a breath.

“Fine. Here goes. Erm, well, keep in mind you didn’t give me any legitimate excuse for not coming out.”

“I did tell you that something came up.” I pointed out.

“Technically, yes.” he sighed. “But I didn’t believe you.”

“Sounds like your problem.”

“Do you want to hear my speech or not?” he whined, dropping his head back, trying desperately not to laugh.

“I thought you didn’t want to do it? Now you’re begging for it? Make up your mind!” I threw my hands up in the air in faux exasperation.

“Louis!” he groaned, backing up until his back hit the wall across from my door. He slid down to the floor, long legs bent at the knee in front of him and stared up at me with wide, vulnerable eyes. “Do you want to hear it, or do you want me to go home? I’ve embarrassed myself enough already, I’d be alright with option two at this rate, but it’s up to you.”

I turned to the side and slid down the doorframe until I was sitting in the open doorway on the dirty linoleum too. “I’m listening.” I promised.

“I thought you were staying home to avoid us, after everything.”

“You mean, after your brother turned into a twat and I broke up with him after two very public arguments? You mean _that_?”

“I thought you were going to listen?”

“Sorry, listening.” I made a zipping motion across my lips, but didn’t bother locking it and throwing away the key. Let’s be honest, I’d probably be interrupting a lot more.

“I was going to tell you…” He took another deep breath and dropped his gaze to his hands picking at the frayed hole in the knee of his black jeans. “That I’m sorry he treated you that way. You deserve better. That being said, I’m not going to let you use it as an excuse.” His green eyes lifted to mine again and he pressed his lips together, nose scrunching momentarily before continuing. “I’m not going to let you ghost me. Or Liam and Zayn. We all want to keep hanging out with you, and we won’t let what Marcel did stop that. I won’t. I didn’t let your dating my brother come between us, and I’m not going to let your breaking up come between us either. We’re not a package deal. I mean… we are, to some degree. Like, we’re related, and he’ll always be in _my_ life, but you don’t have to be friends with him to be friends with me. Not if you don’t want.”

“Is that all?” I asked with a small, amused smile. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

“No.”

“Then, by all means, continue.” I grinned.

“No, I mean. Yes, that’s all. But no, you can’t speak now.”

“Why?”

“Because I know, now, that you have company and I’m interrupting. And you were telling the truth when you said you’d made other plans. And I’m sorry I’ve got you out here sitting on the floor instead of hanging out with… whoever. And I’m embarrassed enough, I don’t need you to make it worse.” he finished with a pout.

“Okay, fuck it, I’m speaking anyways.” I laughed. “I told you already, I’m not planning on changing anything between us. I don’t want to lose you as a friend. And, I will admit I considered bailing on tonight, but Niall convinced me not to. And then I actually, legitimately, had something else come up. And It wasn’t even my fault.”

“Oi! You don’t have any alcohol!” Tommy called from inside.

“Clearly.” Harry chuckled, dropping his gaze to his lap.

“Would you like to come in?”

“I should let you get back.” he shook his head.

“We’re making dinner.” I pressed.

“Wait, _you’re_ making dinner?”

A loud laugh behind me interrupted and Tommy’s trainer nudged my hip drawing my attention upwards. “This one’s not allowed near an open flame.” he grinned, leaning on the doorfram above me. “Take my advice.”

I reached up and sent him stumbling back with a knock to the balls before pushing up to my feet. “Come on, love. Come teach the kids how to make pasta.” I turned on my heel and dug my fingers into Tommy’s ribs herding him, squealing, back inside, leaving Harry to follow along without a chance to argue.

I heard the door closing, and his footsteps following as I reached the kitchen and hopped up on the countertop. “How long until it’s ready?”

“You could help, if you’d like it to go faster.” Lottie quipped.

“Not allowed.” I smirked. “Tommy just reminded me.”

“There’s not even a flame yet! Just stir the--” Lottie spun round, exasperated at my lack of help beyond providing dishes, and froze, eyes on the kitchen doorway. “Hi.”

“Erm, hi.” Harry cleared his throat and gave her an awkward wave.

“Harry, my sister Lottie, and her boyfriend, Tommy.” I gestured between them. “Guys this is Harry. He came to tell me I’m not allowed to stop being friends with him just because he has a twat for a brother.”

“I feel your pain.” Lottie smirked.

I was about to protest, when Harry’s dimples joined the party and I settled on throwing a stray bottle cap at my sister instead. “They’re making lasagna for dinner. You’re staying, yeah?”

“Plenty of food.” Lottie added with a nod.

Harry fish mouthed a couple of times, glancing between my sister and Tommy before turning to meet my gaze with a question in his olive eyes.

“I’d like you to.” I shrugged. “But it’s up to you.”

His nose scrunched and his eyes dropped to the floor. “Yeah, alright.” he nodded. “Sounds like fun.”

“One problem, though.” Tommy cut in, “I was serious when I said you have no alcohol in the house.”

“You’re job hunting tomorrow,” I reasoned. “You can’t walk in hungover and ask for a job.”

“We at least need wine!” he protested. “I’m making you an authentic Italian dish! We need wine!”

“So go get wine!” I laughed, “Lasagna takes ages in the oven anyways! You’ve got time.”

“Go with him.” Lottie nodded towards the door. “Leave the baker to help me make dinner.”

“Why can’t he come with us?”

“Because I didn’t come see you to be left in your dirty flat alone.” she rolled her eyes. “Tommy’s the only one with wine preferences out of all of us, so he has to go. And you’re useless in the kitchen, so that leaves the baker to help me.”

“Harry.” I sighed. “His name’s Harry.”

“Well, _Harry_ , mind helping me make a lasagna while these two idiots go pick out some wine?”

“Not at all.” he grinned. “It’ll give me time to quiz you about all Lou’s secrets.”

“Did you know he used to keep a diary?” she beamed.

Harry’s eyes lit up, until I reached between them and yanked on my sister’s ponytail. “It was not a _diary_. It was a book of songs!”

“Mostly.” she smirked, ducking my hand the second time. “Get out of here!”

Tommy reached for her, throwing her over his shoulder easily and spun in a circle.

“Baaabe!” Lottie squealed.

“Baaabe!” I mimicked, digging my fingers into her ribs.

“Aw, come on!” Harry laughed, yanking me back out of reach of them. “Two on one isn’t fair!”

I spun in his arms and shoved my hands up into his armpits before he had time to react and a loud burst of laughter exploded from his lips. “Don’t fuck with me, Styles! You’ll never win!”

“Go!” Lottie screeched, smacking Tommy in the chest when he finally set her down. “Go buy wine. Stop trying to kill me.”

He reached out and tugged on her ponytail, and she slapped his hand away with another whine of “Baaabe!”

“Baaabe!” I whined again.

Harry took advantage of my momentary distraction at their scuffle and spun me around, locking my arms in a pretzel across my chest. “Go buy some wine, Lou.” he murmured in my ear. “You know I’ll win if you play this game.”

I flung my weight backwards against his chest in an attempt to free myself -- and let’s face it, prove him wrong -- but his hold on me tightened and another, deeper whine of “Baaabe!” warmed my neck.

“You little shit.” I panted, drooping in his arms.

“Wine!” Lottie ordered, pointing us both towards the door.

“Fiiiine!” Tommy groaned, turning on his heel. Harry held onto me for just a second longer, and when Tommy’s fist collided with my balls on his way past, I blamed him.

“Traitor.” I pouted, cupping myself the moment he let me go.

“Safe travels.” he smirked, swatting my bum as I turned to leave.

 

“Baaabe!” I whined, pointing over Tommy’s shoulder at the top shelf. “Get that one. It has a horse on the label.”

“No!” Tommy groaned, exasperated by my fifth terrible recommendation.

“That one has a ship.”

“I swear to God, Lou, I’m dropping you the next time you choose a bottle based on the label.” he sighed.

“You wouldn’t!” I gasped dramatically, hooking my heels in front of him and squeezing his hips with my thighs.

“Just _read_ the label!” he begged. “We’re looking for a Montepulciano d'Abruzzo.”

“I don’t even know what that means!” I whined, dropping my chin to his shoulder.

“It’s a pizza wine, you’ll love it!”

“Baaabe!” I groaned, “Just pick something!”

“Ah ha!” he exclaimed before literally dumping me on the floor to reach for a bottle with a splash of red across the bottom of the white label. Then another. And another. “Three?”

“We’re not drinking _three_ bottles of wine tonight!” I exclaimed from the floor. “And that label is shit!”

“We don’t have to finish them.” he shrugged, ignoring me as he tucked two of them under his arm. He reached down to pull me up before draping his arm round my shoulders. “Come on, love, dinner’s waiting!”

 

When we got home -- with _three_ bottles of wine! -- the flat smelled amazing. Like burnt cheese and garlic. And there was music coming from the kitchen table.

“Charlotte!” I shouted. “That better not be what it sounds like!”

“I bet it is!” she sang.

“You’re going hungry!” I growled, kicking the door shut once Tommy had made it through.

“He needed inspiration!” she beamed, “He’s going to be in a play!”

“I’m aware.” I deadpanned.

“What better inspiration for the Cowardly Lion than Danny Zuko?” Harry asked innocently.

With a huff I followed Tommy to the kitchen to find a corkscrew. “I changed my mind, Tom. I’m definitely going to finish three bottles of wine tonight.”

 

“Guess who has an interview first thing in the morning?” Lottie grinned as we sat around the table for dinner.

“What?” I exclaimed, “That’s great! Where? _How_?”

“Harry.” she shrugged, beaming across the table at him.

“At the bakery?” I asked, turning to him.

“Nope.” he smiled. “Better.”

“What’s better than free cupcakes?” I countered incredulously.

“Something actually relevant to my life?” Lottie rolled her eyes. “An actual salon?”

“No way? Babe, that’s sick!” Tommy leaned around the corner of my small, square table to pull her into a hug.

“Thanks,” she blushed. “I told Harry we were here to look for jobs so we could move down here, finally, and he asked what kind of jobs we were looking for. Turns out he has a friend who owns a salon. He gave her a call, and she agreed to meet me tomorrow.”

“Lou and Sam?” I asked, turning back to Harry.

He nodded, unable to do any more when Lottie cut in. “You knew about them?!” she exclaimed.

“I mean, I met them once. And I spent the afternoon with Lou’s daughter the other day.” I shrugged.

“And you didn’t think to mention you knew of a salon nearby?!” she demanded.

“I only met them once!” I laughed. “I don’t exactly know her well enough to offer you a job on her behalf! Plus, Harry got you in the door, so why does it matter now?”

She rolled her eyes and sipped at her wine, but I knew the excitement over the possibility of a real job would outweigh any betrayal she felt at the moment.

It turned out Tommy took his wine choices so seriously for a reason. The wine he chose was great -- even out of a plastic cup -- and paired perfectly with lasagna. At least, I thought it tasted good together. I’ve never claimed to be a sommelier.

By the time we piled on the couches for a movie, we were all feeling a bit warm and fuzzy, but not enough to affect our clarity the next morning. Lottie insisted on watching _Grease_ , and even with the jokes and the teasing, I couldn’t bring myself to mind. It was still my favorite movie, all these years later. And let’s be honest. I’d kicked ass as Danny Zuko.

Harry didn’t make it more than half an hour before he was nodding off and starting awake, drooping against my shoulder.

“Tired?” I smirked when I caught him yawning.

“Big day.” he chuckled. “Started moving at like eight am and didn’t finish organizing until about an hour before I came over here.”

“You moved today!” I exclaimed, dodging the pillow Lottie threw at me for disrupting the film. “I forgot! Why are you even here? You’ve got to be exhausted! Did you even have help?”

“Liam helped me move my bed and a couple of bigger things.” he nodded. “But I don’t have much. Don’t have _room_ for much. Most of it was just trying to fit everything in a way that didn’t feel suffocating in such a small space.”

I frowned at that. “How small is this place, exactly?”

“Why don’t you shut up and go see it, so we can watch this movie in peace?” Lottie suggested sweetly.

I chucked the pillow she’d thrown at me back her way, and Harry sat forward to stretch, back cracking. “I should probably get going, actually. You’re right, I’m exhausted. And I still have to make my bed.”

“I thought you said you’d finished?” I frowned.

“I mean, I finished unpacking, but I had to wash my sheets and they just finished in the dryer right before I came to see you. I’ve got to maaaake it still.” he finished with a wide yawn. “And I’m out of toothpaste. Fuck. I’ve got to stop and get that, too.” he sighed, rubbing the palm of his hand into his eye hard enough I worried it would bruise.

“I have toothpaste.” I suggested.

“Hmm?” he frowned, turning back to blink at me.

“It’s already eleven, Haz. Stay here, tonight. Use my toothpaste, sleep on my clean sheets, and worry about the rest tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “You’ve got your sister here--”

“Trying to watch a movie.” she cut in to remind us.

“--I don’t want to interrupt all that. I’ll be fine.” he insisted, even as he suppressed another yawn.

“Come on.” I sighed, getting to my feet and reaching out a hand to him.

“Good night.” Lottie waved.

“Nice meeting you.” Tommy added.

“Thank you for dinner, it was amazing.” Harry smiled sleepily. “I loved meeting you both.”

“Alright, alright, come on.” I chuckled, tugging him along. When he veered left towards the front door, I gave his hand another tug and led him down the hall to my bedroom.

“Lou,” he sighed.

“Come on.” I insisted, leading him through my bedroom to the toilet. I opened a drawer and dug through the hair brushes, mascaras, headbands and half dozen spare toothbrushes until I found one in its original package. “Always got spares. Never know when my family will show up.” I peeled it open and tossed the package before grabbing my own toothbrush from the cup on the counter and squeezing out a dollop of paste onto each.

“You’re impossible.” he chuckled with a small, fond smile as I handed his toothbrush over.

“Come on, then. Brush up. You’re not sharing my bed if you smell like lasagna breath!”

He rolled his eyes but gave in and we brushed in comfortable silence for the next two minutes.

“You mind if I…?” he nodded at the toilet and I shrugged, turning to the medicine cabinet on the wall.

“Go for it.”

Whether because we’d already seen all of each other, or because he was Harry, he wasn’t shy. He unzipped and took a wee while I finished my before-bed routine at the counter, then we traded places so he could wash his hands while I took a wee.

He was leaning on the doorframe staring at me in the mirror as I washed my hands and I stuck my tongue out at him in response.

He gave me a sleepy smile. “I never realized you wore glasses.” he admitted quietly.

“Always end up sleeping in contacts when you’re around.” I pointed out.

“That’s not good for you is it?” he frowned.

“Not the best.” I admitted with a small chuckle. “Ready for bed, then?”

“You should go finish the movie with your sister.” he sighed with yet another frown. “I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. And I’ve seen that movie a million times. I’m ready for bed.” I shut off the bathroom light and gave him a gentle nudge towards the bed, shedding my t-shirt as we went. Then my jeans.

“I like them.”

I turned to find Harry shedding his clothing on the other side of the bed and frowned in confusion.

“Your glasses? I like them. They suit you.”

My cheeks burned. I didn’t normally wear them except for a few minutes in the morning and a few minutes before bed. Niall hardly even saw them. “Thanks.” I blushed, folding them and setting them on the nightstand.

We crawled into bed and settled on our sides facing each other with the comforter drawn up round our shoulders. Even when it was cold, I couldn’t stand to sleep in much more than a pair of pants. But tonight, the wine made my insides feel warm, and Harry’s presence beside me warmed my outside. I was tired, slightly tipsy, and happier than I’d been in… a while.

“I liked this.” I admitted quietly.

“What?”

“This. Tonight. With you. It was fun.”

“Yeah, it was, hmm?”

“It was… easy.” I sighed. “No pressure. For once.”

“Pressure?” he frowned.

My eyes slipped closed and I nodded. “Before, it was always about which one of you I liked more. Even when we were just casually hanging out, it was always in the back of my mind. Like nagging at me to make a decision. Then once I started dating Not-Harry, I was constantly trying to keep everyone happy. Trying not to make him jealous. Trying not to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” he murmured.

“Tonight, was just easy.” I continued, ignoring him. “It was just. Us. Us and Lots and Tommy. And pizza and wine. And _Grease_.”

“We had lasagna.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

“It’s all the same.” I waved my hand half heartedly before dropping it heavily to the mattress beside me. Or at least that’s where I thought I’d dropped it. The mattress wasn’t nearly this warm. Or hard. Or smooth.

But Harry was. I slid my hand across the warm plane of flesh until I found a small peak and pinched it.

“Ah!” he squeaked. I opened my eyes when he knocked my hand away from his nipple and found him grinning at me, hands covering his chest protectively. “What was that for?” he chuckled sleepily.

“Thanks for tonight.” I gave him a soft smile that I hoped came off as genuine, because I was being more open than I normally would be. All that wine, I guessed. “For inviting me out. For coming to check on me when I bailed. For your speech.”

Harry groaned and buried his face in the pillow. “I thought you were ditching us. If I’d known you had company, I would have left you to it.” his voice was muffled, but came across clearly enough in the quiet of the room.

“No. You were right.” He peeked out from the safety of his pillow and I shrugged. “I spent all day trying to come up with a believable excuse once Niall told me he had a date. You were right. I didn’t think I was ready to see everyone. Hang out with Marcel as friends. Or you.”

“Me?” he frowned.

“Not without making things worse with Marcel and me. Especially since Niall bailed, you would have been my savior tonight. My buffer. Co-pilot. Lifeboat. Whatever you want to call it. I would have been glued to your side all night, and that would have made everything with Marcel that much worse. I wasn’t ready for that.”

“I didn’t think of it that way.” he sighed. “I wouldn’t have tried to force you to come out if I had.”

I gave him a shrug and a little smile, “It all worked out for the best, I think.”

His nose scrunched and his eyes dipped to the tattoos on my chest as he nodded. “Yeah. I think so too.”

 

Tommy went job hunting in SoHo while Lottie went to meet Lou, and while they were gone, Harry took me to see his new flat.

“You didn’t tell me you’re practically my neighbor.” I laughed as he led me into a building three blocks down from mine.

“You didn’t ask.” he chuckled. “Now, don’t judge me. It’s tiny, and not very tidy at the moment.”

“Mate, you’ve seen my bedroom. And I don’t have the excuse of having just moved in.” I pointed out as I followed him down the hall on the ground floor.

He gave me a sly little grin, but didn’t agree out loud. We stopped outside a door and I waited as he unlocked it and waved me through ahead of him.

There was a small closet to my right and an open door to my left immediately inside the door that revealed a bathroom. They created a small hallway that led to an open space with a kitchenette on the left, a loveseat and armchair facing a tv in one corner, and a queen sized bed in the other.

The walls were still blank, but the rest of the flat was pretty well organized. There were a couple of unpacked boxes stacked beside the couch and a basket of laundry on the bed, but everything else looked pretty much in place.

“Not bad at all, Styles.” I grinned, turning back to him.

“It’s pretty shit.” he shrugged. “But it’s my own.”

“It’s not shit.” I shook my head. “It’s bigger than the dorm Niall and I shared back in the day. It’s small, yeah. But you don’t need much more than this living on your own. Don’t have to worry about privacy or other people’s messes. And you’re tidy enough you won’t even have to worry about your own messes. It’s not the same as being in your big house, but once you get used to it, I think you’ll actually enjoy it. Having your own space. Make it feel more like home.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” he nodded. He opened his mouth to continue, but cut off, reaching into his pocket instead. “Sorry,” he sighed, pulling his buzzing phone out. “One second.”

He ducked back towards the door as he answered and I turned to the window in an attempt to give him some privacy. But in a flat that small, privacy was limited, so I reached for the fitted sheet in the laundry basket on the bed.

“Hey.” He answered. “What do you mean?...Are you sure?...Hm...Because it’s not like that...Yeah, obviously...Whatever, I’m trying to finish unpacking. I’ll talk to you later...Bye.”

I heard footsteps behind me and glanced over my shoulder as I hooked the last corner onto the bed. “Everything okay?”

“Erm, you’re making my bed.” he pointed out.

“I mean,” I shrugged, turning to face him. “You could help.”

He laughed and reached into the basket on the floor, withdrawing the flat sheet, and together we made his bed, then flopped back on it.

“You should feel incredibly lucky right now.” I said, rolling my head to smirk at him. “I don’t even make my own bed.”

“I don’t know why. You don’t even use a flat sheet. You just have a comforter. You could literally just toss it over the bed and be done in less than ten seconds.”

“Only to unmake it again every night? No thanks.” I scoffed.

“You’re impossible.” he grinned.

“What are you doing with your walls?” I asked, “They’re too empty.”

“Got a box of stuff to hang over there.” he nodded towards the living area. “And a box of books I need to unpack too.” he kicked his toe out and tapped the small bookshelf against the wall beside the bed.

“Need some help?” I asked.

“You don’t have to help me organize my flat, Lou.” he chuckled.

“Why not?” I shrugged. “Lottie and Tommy are busy for a while. I’ve not got anything else going on.”

He shook his head a little bit before sitting up and pulling me up after him. We spent about an hour hanging photos and art prints on the walls, determining the best places and trying to get each frame to sit more or less level on the wall.

“So, tell me more about this salon Lot’s got an interview at.” I asked, handing Harry a nail to pound into the wall.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. They do hair and makeup and stuff. Gem get’s her hair done there. She’s had some crazy colors in the past, but she’s been blonde for over a year now. I don’t know, they’ve done a really good job getting it up and running over the past few years. I remember when we were kids and they babysat us, they were always plaiting our hair and painting our nails. Doing Gem’s makeup. I never would have guessed when I was a kid that they’d be doing this well. They’ve got their own hair products and they’re working on a makeup line. I figured they might be up for an apprentice because they’re going to be expanding so much in the next year or so.”

“What about Lou and Sam?” I prodded. “I mean, I know you’re friends with them, and that should be enough, but...” I trailed off with a shrug. “She’s my little sister.”

“They’re good eggs.” Harry promised, stepping down off the chair he’d been on and surveying his work. “Lou and Tom were engaged when they had Lux, but they broke up a couple years ago. They’ve stayed friends and they’ve got all the same friends, so even though they’re not together _romantically_ Lux still has that, like, solid family unit, you know? That’s important. And then they’re really close with Sam and her husband and their little boy, so she’s just surrounded by family all the time. It’s great how they’ve made it all work from a tough situation.”

“Way more than most can manage.” I admitted.

Eventually, we collapsed on the floor beside the bed with a box of books.

I passed him two or three at a time from the box, and Harry stacked them neatly in the shelf. I made comments and teased him about his reading choices. He had everything from Bukowski and Sylvia Plath to fucking Harry Potter. Biographies and art books and Shakespeare.

“Ah hah!” I exclaimed, lifting a book in the air, “No surprise here, aye?”

“You know I love the Rolling Stones.” he laughed, taking it from me and flipping through it. “My mum got me this for my birthday when I was like fifteen. Think I’ve read it a hundred times.”

“That good?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“ _The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger_.” he read from the cover. “What do you think?” he added with a smirk before shelving it.

 

By the end of the weekend, Lottie had an apprenticeship at Lou’s salon and Tommy had a job lined up waiting tables at the same Italian restaurant Marcel and I got in an argument at just last week. And by Monday morning, I was completely dreading my class with Marcel.

“Told you you should have gone out with them friday night.” Niall shrugged unsympathetically as I brushed my teeth. “Would have gotten all the awkward bits out of the way before you have to sit next to him all morning.”

“He cancelled even before I did!” I exclaimed, dropping my toothbrush into the cup on the counter. Next to the green one Harry had left behind Saturday morning. “I can’t sit next to him for an hour and a half pretending everything’s fine, Ni.” I sighed.

“So sit somewhere else.” he shrugged.

“And be the one who moved?” I groaned. “I can’t do that!”

“Then it looks like you’ve got two options.” he sighed, patience waning. “Either drop the class, or suck it up.”

I sat on the edge of my bed and dropped my head into my hands. “Can’t drop the class, I’m graduating next term and I have a full schedule. Don’t have time to re-take it.”

“Then I’ll have lunch ready for you when you get home.” he promised, reaching out to give my shoulder a squeeze. “And I’ve got a to-go cup of tea for you, already.”

“I love you!” I called after him as he left the room.

“You better!” he shouted back.

I took my time getting to class. I didn’t want to be early and have to talk to him, and I didn’t want to get there before him and have to pretend not to be hurt if he didn’t sit next to me. It turned out, I didn’t have to worry. I got there just after my professor began her lecture and slipped into the back row where there were two empty seats.

I searched the room, but it looked like Marcel hadn’t shown up, yet. And he didn’t. Ninety minutes later, my cup was empty, my notes were more thorough than they’d been all term, and the chair beside me was still vacant.

I was halfway home when my curiosity got the better of me.

 

_Me: Migraine?_

_Not-Harry: No?_

_Me: Where were you this morning?_

_Not-Harry: Dropped the class._

_Me: Um can I ask why?_

_Not-Harry: Relax it wasn’t because of you. Had a meeting with my adviser on friday. She recommended withdrawing and trying again next term._

_Me: Wish I had time for that._

 

He didn’t reply by the time I got home, and I didn’t hear from him the rest of the week. By Friday afternoon, I’d spent the week finishing editing my music video with Niall, hanging out with my new neighbor Harry, and catching up on projects for other classes I had been neglecting for a social life the past few weeks.

But I was starting to get nervous.

“You don’t think he’ll be mad I showed up, do you?” I frowned as I fought to get my quiff to lie just right.

“He wouldn’t have a show if it weren’t for _your_ twins, so fuck it. If he wants to avoid you all night, let him. But he can’t be mad at you for showing up.”

I sighed deeply and turned to face Niall with a creased brow.

“Relax.” he smiled, “Your whole family is going to be here any minute. If that doesn’t distract you from your boy problems, nothing will.”

As if on cue, there was a series of quick knocks at the front door followed by a piercing wail. “Amen to that.” I laughed, turning for the living room.

Between toddler tantrums and eight people to escort across town, we made it to the gallery only about twenty minutes after the doors opened.

“Wow,” Fizzy breathed as we approached the entrance. “I didn’t expect it to be this busy, honestly.”

“Me neither.” I admitted. There were at least a dozen other people making their way in ahead of us, and from what I could see inside, there were plenty more already wandering the gallery.

It was a small storefront in SoHo between what looked like a overpriced hipster clothing boutique and a used bookstore. The brick front was painted white with simple, black lowercase letters spelling out _the aviary_ over the door.

“I can’t wait to see how they turned out!” Phoebe beamed.

“They’re sick,” Niall grinned, tossing an arm round her shoulders. “You’re gonna love it.”

“You’ve seen them?” I gasped. “They wouldn’t let me see them until tonight! I’ve only seen the girls’ when it was half done!”

Niall tossed his head back on a laugh and gave me a little shove to the side. “Relax, it’s time. Come on.”

When the crowd has finally thinned out enough for the lot of us to get through the entrance, I think we all froze at the sight in front of us.

“Oh my God.” My mum sighed behind me.

“What do you think?”

I tore my eyes away from the group photo in front of us to find Marcel approaching with a shy smile.

“It’s gorgeous.” Mum gushed, shaking her head almost in disbelief as she pulled him into a hug. “Truly, beautiful, love.”

Marcel’s cheeks dimpled under her praise, even as he blushed something fierce. “Well, this is just the beginning. If you’d like to see the rest, I can show you?”

“Yes!” The girls nodded excitedly, following off after him when he led them round the corner to the right.

“Hanging back?” Niall asked, hovering next to my side as I watched them go.

“Yeah, think I’ll just let them have their moment.” I shrugged.

Niall nodded and scanned the room until he spotted a server carrying a tray of champagne flutes. “Wanna grab a drink?”

“You go ahead. I’m gonna look around.”

He gave my shoulder a squeeze before wandering off, and then I was alone. Just me and this giant painting of so many people I cared about so much.

They’d done exactly what they’d said they would. They’d taken one of the group photos I’d helped them shoot and photoshopped Lou and Sam in on either end. And quite well, actually. They had their hands hooked over Harry’s and Marcel’s shoulders, while they had theirs hooked around Phoebe’s and Daisy’s, who each hand an arm wrapped round Ernie and Doris who stood on stools in the center.

The photo, just like the limited glimpses I’d gotten of the others, was in black and white. And the background was filled with a honeycomb pattern of pale blue hexagons, each with a snowflake in the middle.

“Sick, right?”

I was pulled from my thoughts by a smooth, slow voice and turned to find Harry stepping up beside me. He looked amazing tonight, in a plum, floral button down -- unbuttoned halfway down, of course. I suddenly felt absurdly underdressed in my black jumper.

He held out a glass of champagne and I accepted it with a nod of thanks before turning back to the painting. “It’s unbelievable.” I shook my head. “How the hell did he photoshop Lou and Sam in so seamlessly? It looks like they’ve _actually_ got their hands on your shoulders.”

Harry chuckled around a sip from his own glass before nodding in my peripheral. “That’s because they were.”

I turned to frown at him. “What?”

“I stood in the middle, and they each actually posed on my shoulder. And then Marcel cut me out and placed them next to each of us. This is actually about five different photos cut together. He took the best of each of us and combined them instead of trying to find one shot where nobody had their eyes closed or anything. Sometimes that’s easier with so many people.”

“That’s amazing.” I sighed, finally lifting my glass to my lips. “What’s with the snowflakes though?”

“It’s the first piece you see when you come in. So they’re kind of planting the idea in your head that it’s a twin thing, going forward. And the snowflakes -- no two snowflakes the same, you know?”

I squinted at the background for a moment before shaking my head. “They’re all the same, though.”

“People know that snowflakes are all different, but they can’t actually look close enough to see it.” he explained.

“Just like twins.” I finished for him, understanding suddenly dawning clearly. “People _know_ they’re two separate people, but they don’t often look close enough to see it.”

“Exactly.” Harry nodded, dimples on full display. “Have you seen the rest?”

I shook my head. “Just got here a minute ago. Your brother just took the rest of the family on a grand tour, I think.”

“Come on,” he grinned. “Let’s go see the rest.”

I followed him off the way my family had disappeared and stopped abruptly the moment we rounded the corner. There were Ernie and Doris, side by side, arms extended as they leapt off their stools. Only the stools had been removed, replaced with a pattern of leaves. It was the same type of leaf repeated over and over again changing from the brightest spring green behind Ernie to a deep pumpkin orange on Doris’ side. Like actual leaves changing with the seasons.

I quickly realized the room was laid out in a bit of a maze. Each corner brought you to the next canvas, without revealing what laid beyond. Next, was Lou and Sam.

“They chose their own background, can you tell?” Harry smirked as we approached.

“Probably could have guessed, yeah.” I laughed. They were stood in the middle of the canvas with their arms draped round each other’s backs, background filled with lipstick kisses. Starting with a dark vampy plum in the top corner on Lou’s side, every kiss was a different color from brick red, deep burgundy, and fire truck red to bubblegum pink, and pale nude on Sam’s side.

And if there was ever any question why, the girls in the photo answered it immediately. They both wore all black, and they both had bleached blonde hair, but Lou’s entire look was much more bold and edgy, while her sister’s makeup and general vibe was much more natural and laid back. From the little I’d come to know and from what I’d learned through the boys, that pretty much summed up their personalities. While Lou had gotten pregnant during a whirlwind romance with a tattoo artist, Sam had been a bit more traditional with the big wedding and baby coming later. And they were both happy now. Both living their dreams, building their company and raising their children together. And very accepting of the differences in each of their lives and choices.

“My mum is probably in heaven right now.” I smirked as we made our way to Phoebe and Daisy’s next. She had the girls lined up in front of their canvas with Zayn and Marcel on either side as she snapped away on her phone, calling out orders much the same way Zayn had been during the actual photoshoot. And the girls were just soaking it up.

“She’s gone on a rampage.” Fizzy sighed as she stepped up beside me with a glass of champagne.

“Oi!” I squawked, grabbing for it when it was halfway to her lips and downing it in one gulp. “You think that’s a rampage, don’t let her see you with one of them!”

She gave me an impressive eye roll as I passed both my empty flutes to a passing server and I took a deep calming breath before turning to Harry. “This is Fizzy. Fizz, this is Harry.”

“I could have guessed by a process of elimination.” she sassed, nodding at Marcel across the room.

Harry beamed and held out a hand to shake. “It’s so great to meet you. I can already tell I’ll love you as much as your brother.”

“Why?” she scoffed, “I’ve barely said two words to you.”

“Sorry.” I sighed, “Middle child.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” he smirked.

“Oi!” I squawked, again.

“She had to learn that sass from somewhere, yeah?” he grinned, poking me in the ribs.

“Okay, I give up,” Fizzy laughed, “You can stay if you keep teasing Lou. Nobody can ever keep up with him.”

“I’ll give it a solid effort.” he chuckled as the crowd ahead moved on and opened us up to see the girls’ painting.

The finished product was even more beautiful than I’d anticipated. The palm leaves and feathers were perfect, I could proudly compliment Harry’s contribution without a drop of sarcasm, and the girls looked beautiful.

“They look like models.” Fizzy commented. “They’re naturals.”

“We should get some photos of you two and Lottie sometime. You could give them all to your mum for Christmas or something.” Harry commented casually, drawing both our gazes. “What?” he asked when he realized we were staring.

“Nothing,” I shrugged, “It’s just… Yeah. That would be--”

“Sweet.” Fizzy finished for me. “She would love that.”

“I mean, don’t look so surprised.” he laughed. “I’m not a total knob!”

“Yes you are!” a voice laughed behind us.

We turned just as a small body collided with my legs. “Lou!” Lux shouted.

“Hey, babe!” I laughed, scooping her up and perching her on my hip.

“What, nothing for me?” Harry pouted.

“Hi!” she beamed, leaning over to give him a kiss as her parents looked on with fond smiles.

“Hey.” I smiled, waving awkwardly round Lux’s back. “What do you think so far?”

“It’s sick.” Lou shook her head in awe, glancing back towards her own canvas. “We’re blown away.”

“The Kid did a great job.” Tom agreed, reaching for Lux when she lunged for him. He easily lifted her up onto his shoulders and shot us an amused smile.

“And yes, you are a knobhead.” Lou smirked, jabbing harry in the ribs as they shuffled round us to see the next painting.

“Thanks.” Harry deadpanned.

“Aw, don’t worry, we still love you.” I cooed, pinching his cheek and bursting into giggles when he swatted me away.

“Come on, you’re not finished here.” he blushed, tugging me by the wrist around the next corner.

“Jesus.” I muttered as we came face to face with the last canvas. “That’s not the one you showed me that first day.” I pointed out a bit louder.

“We sort of went a different direction once we had more than just us involved. We didn’t need to go quite so… extreme.” he smirked.

I nodded. It was different, for sure. Whereas the first photo they showed me was each of them from the shoulders up, filling a six foot tall canvas, these were full body shots. It took the impact of a six foot tall head down to a life size portrait like the others.

“Didn’t need to make quite the same impact with more people.” he shrugged. “Before, when it was just us, we were only going to do a couple of big ones, so it wouldn have needed more punch.”

“Don’t know if people could handle much more punch than this.” Fizzy commented dryly. My sister through and through.

“I like this so much better.” I agreed.

“Yeah?” The uncertainty in Harry’s voice surprised me enough that I tore my gaze away from the canvas and turned to meet his eerily green eyes.

“Was this your idea?” I asked on a hunch.

His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink and he turned back to the painting with a nod.

“I love it.” I insisted. “I’ve always thought you’re like night and day.”

“Yeah?” he asked again, without meeting my gaze.

“Definitely.” I nodded, turning back to stare at the artwork in front of me.

Zayn had done a phenomenal job on the background -- no surprise there -- filling it with an elongated, diamond shaped checkerboard pattern. In half the squares, he’d used swirls of a medium blue across the entire canvas, but it was swirled on the left with darker shades of navy and on the right with lighter shades of sky blue. And the other half of the squares he’d left white, with splatters of metallic paint that looked like constellations. Silver on the left, and gold on the right.

“Like the sun and the moon.” I breathed, low enough I didn’t think anybody heard me.

Until Harry’s gaze dropped to his shoes, lips pursed and nose scrunched adorably. And I knew he’d heard.

A small whistle sounded off to our left and we both looked up to find Marcel waving at Harry.

“Oops. Duty calls.” he chuckled, sending his brother a wave of acknowledgement.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Think they wanted to take some group photos.” he shrugged, backing slowly towards the door. “I better get out there.”

“If you think for one second we’re not coming to watch you model, you’re insane.” Fizzy smirked.

“God, you’re almost as bad as this one.” Harry laughed, jabbing a thumb in my direction before turning on his heel and leading the way. He weaved us through the growing crowd easily. People moved out of his way like he was actually fucking Jagger, king of rock n roll parting the fucking sea.

We made our way around the last corner that brought us back to the front entrance where my sisters and brother were lined up in front of the snowflake painting with Marcel, Lou and Sam. Fizzy and I ducked off out of the way while Harry joined them, hoisting Ernie up on his hip.

“That’s perfect.” Tom nodded squinting through the viewfinder on his camera. Apparently he was a bit of a photographer himself. “Haz, why don’t you pick up Doris there? Yep, perfect.” He began snapping away, 

“Do you _see_ them?” Mum crowed as she sidled up next to Fizz and me.

“The paintings?” I chuckled, “Yeah, we’ve been staring at them for the past half hour.”

“No, my babies!” she cried, clutching both hands in front of her chest as she stared at both sets of twins posing for the camera.

Fizzy and I exchanged a grin before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Mum,” Fizzy smiled. “We see them.”

“They’re beautiful!”

“You do make beautiful children.” I quipped.

Her eyes dropped closed for a moment before she turned a rueful smile my way. “You are so beautiful, my love.” she sighed, reaching out to run her thumb across my cheekbone in a move she’d perfected over the years. “Tell me about you.”

“Tell me about _you_ ,” I countered, “How are things at home?”

“Same as always.” she smiled, draping an arm round my waist and leaning her head on my shoulder as we watched all the twins pose for more and more photos. “Lottie is trying to get out, Fizzy is hiding a boyfriend, and the girls are wearing too much makeup.”

“Hey!” Fizzy squawked.

“Hey, yourself, everybody knows.” Mum smirked.

“I don’t know!” I exclaimed, “Who the fook are you hiding?!”

“Language!” Mum hissed, the same time Fizzy insisted “He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Alright, you’re staying over mine tonight and you’re telling me everything.” I decided.

Dan waved Mum over before she could argue, and Fizzy crossed her arms over her chest in a pout. “I’ll stay over tonight, but there’s nothing to tell.”

“We’ll see.” I smirked.

By the time Niall found me in the crowd again, he had a vaguely familiar looking ginger boy with him. “Lou, you remember Ed from the party, yeah?”

“Erm, yeah, hiya, Ed.” I nodded, extending a hand to shake his.

“So half these twins are yours?” he asked, nodding towards the group _still_ taking photos.

“The younger half, yeah.” I laughed. “This is my other sister, Fizzy, and I’ve got one more floating round here somewhere.”

“Wow, got a full football team, don’t you?” he grinned.

“Nearly there, yeah.” I laughed. “What are you boys up to tonight?”

“Thought we’d hit the pub after this.” Niall shrugged. “See if we can’t find someone to take pity on us.”

“What happened to that girl?” I frowned. “Ellie, was it?”

“Long story.” he rolled his eyes. “I’ll explain later. For now, I think we’re going to head out.”

“Alright, be safe.” I nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze as they waved goodbye.

“Mum’s banished me to yours tonight.” Lottie sighed, leaning back against the wall beside Fizzy and me. We’d headed outside for some air after Niall and Ed left, and the party was beginning to wind down.

I shook my head with a smirk. “What were you lot fighting about?”

“The girls wanted the bed. I told mum there’s no way I’m sleeping on the floor of a hotel room and she told me I could sleep at yours.”

“Great. Then you and Fizz can fight over who gets the shorter couch.”

I turned to find Fizzy downing the rest of Lottie’s champagne and glanced around to make sure Mum wasn’t going to pop up out of nowhere as she shook her head. “Don’t even think about it. I’m a foot taller than you.”

“Fine.” Lottie rolled her massive blue eyes, “Just get me drunk first and I won’t care where I’m sleeping.”

 

By the time Harry rejoined us, the crowd had thinned considerably. And when he found out both my oldest sisters were coming back to mine, he was absolutely giddy.

“We should take photos tonight!”

“Of what?” Lottie frowned.

“Us!” Fizzy nodded excitedly.

“Look who’s suddenly forgotten she’s camera shy.” I smirked.

“Come on, Lou.” she sighed, “Mum would love this. And we’re only in town for one night.”

She had a point. I turned to Lottie. “Harry had the idea to get some photos of the three of us, and collect them up with the ones of the kids and give them to Mum for Christmas. What do ya think?”

“That sounds sick! We haven’t gotten real photos done since before the twins were born. I’m like twelve in the one she has on the wall.” she frowned. “We could get one of those collage frames for them.”

“I’ll put you in charge of that,” I nodded. Then I turned back to Harry. “You’re sure you want to do this tonight?”

“It was my idea, remember?” he laughed.

“Who’s going to take the photos?” I asked with a little wince. I hoped he didn’t plan on inviting his brother over. He hadn’t even acknowledged me all night.

“I’ve got a camera.” he shrugged.

“Alright.” I chuckled.

“Meet at yours in half an hour?” he asked.

“You’re leaving now?” I frowned.

“I’m ready to head out, yeah.” he nodded. “But if you lot want to stay longer, you can just text me when you’re ready for me to come over.”

“Looks like things are wrapping up,” Lottie shrugged. “Let’s just say bye to Mum and get out of here.”

I nodded, before jabbing Harry in the ribs. “Half an hour, Styles. Don’t be late.”

We ran into Liam and Zayn on our way back to the family, and I gave Zayn a big hug. “You fucking killed it, mate!” I exclaimed. “Seriously, they look sick!”

“Thanks,” he grinned as we parted. “Your mum seemed to really like them. She took about a million photos of me and Marcel with the kids next to them.”

“I might’ve neglected to tell you that would happen.” I smirked.

“It was cool.” he shrugged. “Are you heading out?”

“Yeah, got these two at mine tonight.” I nodded towards my sisters who were talking to my Mum already, off to the side.

“Call me next week.” he nodded. “We should hang out.”

“Yeah?” I smiled. “Alright.”

“Now that I’m done with this, I’ll have a bit more time on my hands. I’m ready to have some fun.”

“Yeah, Ni and me finished our video this week, so we’re going to have some more time too. Let’s do something.”

“Call me.” he repeated with a nod before slipping away to chase after Liam.

 

Harry arrived outside my building the same time we did, and we climbed the stairs together. He had a brown leather camera bag slung across his shoulders and I tugged on the strap as we followed the girls down the hall to my flat. “What’s this?”

“Camera.” he deadpanned. “Remember, the one I went home to get?”

“Yeah,” I laughed, “I guess I just I didn’t realize you had like, a real camera. I kind of expected you to show up with a little point and shoot or something, if I’m honest.”

“I mean, I’m not trying to make a career out of it, or anything,” he shook his head, dimples popping, “But, like. I like taking photos. I bought a camera last summer. It’s not as fancy as Marcel’s, but it gets the job done.”

“Let’s hope.” I teased.

 

Without my Mum’s watchful eye, I allowed Fizzy to have a couple of drinks with the rest of us, and Harry took photos of the three of us against an empty wall in the living room. The set up wasn’t as involved as Marcel’s. We just moved the dining table out of the way and stood in front of the wall. Harry didn’t even have a tripod. But it wasn’t as intimidating as it would have been with all the lights and backdrop and all.

The girls touched up their hair and makeup -- then fixed my quiff that had gone flat over the night. And then Harry took photos of us. He took a million. We started out posing together, smiling nicely, but those quickly deteriorated into us hanging all over each other pulling funny faces. 

Harry seemed to love it though. The weirder we got, the deeper his dimples dug into his cheeks, and the more he encouraged us, shouting out more and more ridiculous poses until I had Lottie on my back and Fizzy had fallen onto the floor in a fit of laughter.

Then he taught me how to work his camera and he let me take individuals of the girls as well.

“We need individuals of you, too.” Fizzy eventually pointed out.

“Don’t sass the photographer!” I scoffed, snapping away as Lottie posed with an exaggerated kissy face before breaking into giggles.

“She’s right, you know.” Harry drawled behind me. He’d been perched on the edge of the kitchen table sipping at a beer and shouting directions to the girls.

“I can’t hear you, I’m a very busy and important photographer.” I insisted lifting my nose in the air.

“He’s ticklish on his hips.”

“Charlotte!!” I gasped. “Whose side are you on?!”

“Come on, Louis!” she groaned, “Your hair looks sick, get in some pictures before you fuck it up!”

Two big hands landed on my hips in a warning and Harry’s warm breath sent a shiver down my spine as he agreed. “You’ve already got two beers and who knows how much champagne in you. Your hair has another half hour, max, before it’s drooping again.”

“Be in them with me.” I pouted, leaning back into his broad chest.

“Your mum doesn’t want photos of _me_ on her wall.”

“Harrryyyy!!!” I whined, dropping my head to his shoulder and pouting up at him.

“Ten minutes by yourself and then I’ll be in as many pictures with you as you want.” he laughed.

“Two minutes.” I countered.

“Eight.”

“One.”

“Five, final offer.”

“You’re the worst!” I whined, shoving his camera into his hands and stomping over to my smirking sister. “You’re the worst, too!”

“I am not!” she grinned, moving off to sit with Fizzy on the side.

“Set a timer, Fizz, you’re the only one who can be trusted round here.” I pouted.

“Don’t start it until he smiles.” Harry smirked. “We’re not giving your mum a bunch of grumpy hedgehog photos for Christmas.”

“Excuse me!” I squawked. “Why am I a hedgehog?!”

“Waiting on a smile, here.” he sang, miming checking his invisible watch.

“I’m absolutely bursting with the desire to smile right now.” I deadpanned, crossing my arms petulantly.

“Good.” he smirked, clicking the shutter.

“Harry!” I laughed.

“There we go.” he beamed, snapping again and again.

“Loosen up! Pretend you’re having fun.”

Somehow, I did. I had so much fun, I didn’t even notice that Fizzy hadn’t actually started a timer. I don’t know how long it had been when she finally took the camera from Harry and he joined me.

 

“You sleep here as much as you do your own flat.” I murmured in the dark.

“Fine, I’ll go.” He moved to crawl out of my bed, but I tugged on his hair causing him to flop back down beside me. “I’ve only been here twice.” he pointed out with a small chuckle.

“How many nights have you spent at your new flat?”

“I don’t know, like, five.” he grinned.

“Close.” I smirked.

“You sound like you’re complaining.” he murmured.

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

“Tonight was fun.”

“Yeah.”

“Zayn and Marcel did an amazing job on those portraits.”

“Yeah.” he repeated, quieter now.

“Zayn told me to call him next week. He wants to hang out.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I was surprised he wanted to see me, to be honest. After everything.”

“Why? I told you he and Liam want to stay friends with you.”

“Yeah, but...”

“But what?”

“You’re too nice to me.”

“No I’m not!” he laughed, tucking his hand under his cheek.

“You are.” I argued. “I dated your brother even though I knew you liked me, and you were great about it. And then we broke up in a shitty way, and you’ve still been great about it.”

“I’m just… trying to look at things objectively, I guess.” he shrugged, voice slow and rumbling in the dark of my bedroom.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my best friend just went through a shitty break up and part of me wants to hate the boy who broke his heart.” My stomach knotted at that. “But the rational part of me knows he should have treated you better, and he is the one who blew a good thing. So I’m not mad at you for breaking his heart. And I’m trying to not be mad at him for breaking yours. Because it’s not my business.”

“It could have been your business.” I pointed out quietly. It was the first time I’d acknowledged out loud that I would have dated him if he’d asked me to. If he hadn’t told me to date his brother instead. If he’d fought for me.

“I know.” he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned I hate the title of this fic? Compare and Contrast was one of several placeholders that just never got replaced before I started posting. I regret that now. :/ Anyways, let me know what you think of chapter ten and Harry getting to know Louis' family just a little bit more.
> 
> Also there's an actual reason I didn't post this chapter last week. I planned on including manips of Marcel & Zayn's paintings but I had more luck making the minor characters' ones than I did making Harry & Marcel's and that's the one that really counted, right? I just couldn't find two photos of Harry that worked for what I wanted so. Sorry. Next chapter won't take a fucking month to post. Promise.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There is one instance of homophobia in this chapter, but Louis serves some instant karma, so don't let it scare you away.
> 
> I got tickets to see Niall next summer and I'm so excited. Other than that, I've spent the last two days avoiding tumblr and twitter as much as possible so I could finally finish, proof and post this chapter. I'm not entirely confident in my editing bailies, so pleeease let me know if there's anything that needs fixing. In the mean time, I'll be binge watching videos from Harry's and Niall's shows. Finally! XXXXX

I was surprised when Zayn texted me and invited me to hang out Monday morning. He had mentioned it at the gallery show, but I hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. I also hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. And I _definitely_ hadn’t expected to be leaning shirtless against his cold patio wall, squinting into the sun and pretending it wasn’t just a little bit too cold for this when I agreed to come over.

“My nipples could cut glass right now.” Okay, so I wasn’t exactly pretending.

“It looks great though.” he mumbled absently. “You were made for this.”

“Me?!” I squawked incredulously. “Do you own a mirror, mate?”

“Can’t draw myself all day. People might think I’m vain.” I didn’t have to open my eyes to hear his smirk.

“God forbid.” I chuckled.

“How you been?” he asked casually.

“Well, I’m a bit nipply at the moment.” I rubbed a hand over my bare chest in an attempt to warm up a bit.

“Don’t move.”

“Zaaaayn!” I groaned.

“I’m almost done. Quit complaining.”

“What is this for again?” I sighed.

“Contrast portrait for one of my classes.”

“And remind me why you couldn’t ask your _boyfriend_ to strip down for this?”

“I’ve used him too many times. My teacher said I need to find a new model for this one.”

“Why couldn’t you use Harry or Marcel?”

“I just spent two months painting their faces. I’m sick of them.”

“That’s fair.” I sighed. “I still don’t understand why I couldn’t keep my shirt on, though.” I added with a pout.

“I could drink tea out of your collarbones, mate. I’m doing a _contrast_ portrait. It’s all about light and shadows. Sharp angles make sharp shadows. It’s why supermodels are so skinny. Aesthetically, the angles just photograph interestingly.”

“And because the modeling industry is full of assholes.”

“And that.” he chuckled.

“How long is this going to take?” I asked for probably the dozenth time.

“Stop thinking about it.”

“Easy for you to say, you’re in a jumper!”

“Tell me about your weekend, then.” he insisted. “Take your mind off it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know, just spent Saturday with the family.” I sighed. “My mum didn’t stop gushing about you all day. My sister and her boyfriend are moving down here next month, so my parents went with them to look at some flats, and I took the kids to the zoo.”

“How’d that go?” he chuckled knowingly.

“Didn’t lose any of ‘em, so I’d call it a success.” I grinned. “Fizzy was a big help.”

“And how have things been since the breakup?”

“Fine, I guess.” I shrugged. “Got loads more time to catch up on homework. Ni and I are turning in our music video tomorrow. Finished it last week.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “How’d it turn out?”

“Pretty sick, if I’m honest.” I chuckled. “Marcel did a great job shooting the patio scene.”

Zayn was silent for a long moment before, “You talked to him since the break?”

“Texted him a bit last week.” I sighed. “He dropped the class we had together. Said his adviser _advised_ him to. But nothing other than that.”

“Not at the show?”

“Nah.” I shook my head, coming to an abrupt stop when Zayn snapped at me again, before continuing. “I wanted to congratulate him, because everything looked so sick. But he didn’t acknowledge me when we arrived, just swept my mum off to show her round, so I didn’t bother him. Figured if he didn’t want to talk to me, I didn’t want to ruin his big night by cornering him.”

“Think he’s a bit hurt.” Zayn murmured softly.

“Yeah? Well that makes two of us.” I sighed.

“You don’t think you’re partly to blame?”

I peeked an eye open and found Zayn staring at me with intense, dark eyes, balled up in his chair with his arms wrapped round his knees. Not even drawing anymore, the twat! “I mean, obviously we all made mistakes.” I wasn’t sure how much of our relationship Harry or Marcel had shared with Liam or Zayn, but I didn’t plan on telling them myself. “But like, I did the best I could in a tough situation. I was constantly trying to reassure him that he didn’t need to be jealous, while simultaneously trying not to rub our relationship in Harry’s face. Harry was very understanding of everything, and Marcel… couldn’t be.”

“Can you blame him?” he asked gently.

I frowned, and sat forward from the brick wall, wrapping my arms around me for warmth. He was obviously finished for the moment. “What would you have done in my situation?”

“Wouldn’t go flaunt a new relationship around, that’s for sure.”

“I didn’t!” I squawked. “And anyway, I thought you wanted to hang out with me? If you just needed a model for your project, you could have said so. And if you just wanted to lecture me for hurting Marcel’s feelings, you could have done that over the phone.”

I pushed to my feet and snatched my jumper off the railing, yanking it on over my head.

“Lou, wait.” Zayn sighed, putting his sketchbook aside and standing up too. “I didn’t mean to just… It wasn’t my idea.” he frowned.

“What the hell does that mean?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Liam asked me if I’d find out what’s going on. Marcel called him all upset and when he told me what happened I was surprised, but Marcel was really hurt, and--”

“ _What?_ ” I groaned. “What does he say I’ve done to him? _He_ was the one who couldn’t accept that I wanted to be with him. _He_ was the one who went out of his way to rub our relationship in Harry’s face. And _he_ was the one who made his brother so miserable he moved out. I don’t know what else I could have done to convince him I wanted to be with him. _He_ couldn’t accept it. I can’t be with someone who can’t trust me. I was always honest with him.”

“He said you went out and got a new boyfriend and rubbed in it his face.”

I leaned back against the brick wall and dropped my chin to my chest with a deep sigh. “I didn’t.”

“Why is he saying you did?”

“I honestly have no idea. I haven’t even seen him since we broke up, except for the Gallery Show.”

“He was upset before that.” Zayn frowned.

“I haven’t even seen anybody but family and Niall since we broke up.” I shrugged. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“Maybe you should ask him?” Zayn asked.

I ran a hand through my hair and nodded. “Yeah. Maybe. Do you still need me, or can go?” I asked, suddenly just exhausted from all of this.

“Look, Louis. I didn’t _just_ ask you to hang out because I promised Liam.” he sighed.

“Yeah. Don’t worry.” I nodded, backing towards the door. “Another time.”

“Yeah. Later.” he sighed. I saw him run a frustrated hand through his hair just before I turned and hurried off through the flat.

 

The tv was on and muted, but the living room was empty when I got home. I tossed my bag over the back of the couch and turned for the kitchen when a deep grunt and a thud had me stopping in my tracks.

“Lou?” a deep voice yawned, just before a curly head popped up from the couch.

“Harry? What are you doing here?”

“Happy to see you, too.” he smirked, retrieving my bag from the floor and setting it neatly at the end of the couch.

“Sorry,” I sighed, circling round and dropping down beside my bag. “Weird day.”

“How come?” he frowned, leaning back into the cushions beside me. His hair was a mess and his face was a little bit red and puffy like he’d been asleep.

“Apparently your brother cried to Liam about me, and Liam made Zayn invite me to hang out with him, just so he could interrogate me about a new boyfriend I’ve been rubbing in his face.”

“Wait. Liam and Zayn did that?” Harry frowned.

“That was the part of the story you’re concerned with?” I laughed. “The fact that Zayn didn’t _actually_ want to hang out with me?”

“He told me he did.” he shrugged. “Why would he lie?”

“Because his boyfriend is mad at me for breaking his best friend’s heart and he’s siding with the one who blows him?”

“He wanted to hang out with you before that, though. I don’t know why he would ruin it over this.”

“Before what?” I frowned.

“Oh. Erm, yeah, I didn’t tell you at the time, because it seemed a bit… irrelevant…” Harry fidgeted.

“Tell me what?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“That morning I brought you to see my flat?” he asked, continuing when I gave him a small nod of acknowledgment. “I got a call? It was Marcel.”

“And?” I pressed.

“He called to tell me about your new boyfriend.”

“Excuse me?” I exclaimed. “Why am I the only person on the planet who doesn’t know I have a new boyfriend?”

Harry just smirked. “Because he belongs to your sister.”

“What?”

“He saw you out with a fit bloke last weekend. He didn’t know it was--”

“Tommy?” I frowned. “When?”

“I’m guessing when you went for wine?” he shrugged. “He said he heard you call him ‘babe’ and talk about going home.”

“So he saw me with a bloke at a grocery store and, not only assumed I had a new boyfriend two days after breaking up with him, but accused me of rubbing it in his face? I didn’t even see him!”

“I’m not clear on that part, either.” he shrugged with a sympathetic smile.

“Why did he call you, then?” I asked. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

“He thought you had a new boyfriend and wanted to rub it in my face that it wasn’t me.” Harry explained in that slow way of his.

“He thought I’d go directly from him, to you?”

“Apparently.” he shrugged casually.

“That’s not… I’m not… You’re…”

“I know.” Harry’s hand reached out to give mine a squeeze. “And I didn’t tell you because it was irrelevant. I told him it’s not like that between us.”

“Did you tell him he wasn’t my boyfriend?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

“He said he saw you all over a guy who was exactly your type. That you called him babe. I asked him if he’s really sure, and he insisted.”

“So, no.”

“He was being a dick about it.” he shrugged again, smirking just a little. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let him figure it out on his own. Didn’t think he’d drag everybody else into it, though. I’m sorry,” he finished with a small wince.

“It’s alright.” I chuckled quietly. “At least I know what’s going on now. Never thought Lottie and I had the same taste in guys though. I mean, Tommy’s cute, but… Not interested.” I laughed.

“I mean, Marcel doesn’t really know your _type_ other than us, does he? Tommy’s tall with dark hair and light eyes. I could see how he’d assume, if that’s all he’s ever seen you with.”

“Maybe.” I sighed. “Still weird.”

Harry exhaled a small laugh before we both trailed off into silence. Only it wasn’t weird. I was tired, and it was comfortable. Just sitting there in the quiet of the living room.

Then I remembered. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Came to see Niall. Then he had to go to a study group and said you’d be back soon.”

“So you just took a nap in my empty flat.” I deadpanned.

“Apparently?” he grinned, rubbing his eye sleepily with the back of his hand.

“Creep.” I grinned. “I’m starving, are you hungry?”

“Not if you’re cook--OUCH!” he squawked when I landed a punch to his shoulder.

“Make me food, you arse.” I pouted.

“What’ve you got?”

“A kitchen.” I deadpanned.

He narrowed his eyes at me in thought for a moment before nodding towards the window. “Wanna go out and get something?”  
“Didn’t you hear? I’ve got a boyfriend.” I smirked.

“Shut up.” he pouted, smacking my knee before planting his palm there and pushing himself up. “Come on. I know a place.”

 

“Is this place, your flat?” I asked as we approached his building.

“This place is my flat, yes.” he smirked, “But it’s not where we’re eating lunch. We just need to pick up my car.”

“How the fuck have I known you this long without knowing you had a car?” I demanded. “You and your brother never drive anywhere.”

“Why would we, when we can walk everywhere we need to go?” he shrugged, digging keys out of his pocket before stopping in front of a vintage convertible Mercedes.

“This is your car.” I deadpanned, hands on hips as he unlocked the passenger door and held it open for me.

“This is your ride, if you’ll get in!” he retorted.

“No need to get so sassy.” I smirked, climbing in. “Where are you taking me?”

“If you’ll just relax, you’ll find out in about ten minutes.” he promised before slamming the door in my face.

Harry’s car was old. It sounded like a motorcycle, and had that musty old car smell, but the leather seats were in fairly good condition and it started on his first try, so I didn’t give him too hard a time about it.

“Do you need a boating license to drive this monstrocity round town?” I said _too_ hard a time.

“You’re just chafed you couldn’t see over the steering wheel.”

“Take it back!” I demanded, reaching over to twist his nipple and earning a squeal in return. “I am completely average sized!”

“Must be at least _this tall_ \--” he placed a hand at the middle of his forehead in a salute “--to drive the yacht!”

“Are you sure this thing’s a yacht?” I squinted at the disco ball dangling from his keychain. And the fuzzy dice hanging from the rear view mirror. “Looks more like one of those riverboats with the casino onboard.”

“Long as I got me anchor, it doesn’t really matter, does it?” he beamed, holding up his wrist where his anchor tattoo was hidden under the sleeve of his jumper.

“Lot of good that’ll do if you throw it overboard. I didn’t draw you a rope!”

“You’ve definitely fucked us now, then.” he sighed dramatically. “We’ll never survive if we capsize.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I chuckled with a fond smile. “So what do you call this _yacht_ ,” I emphasized the word sarcastically. “Every boat’s got a name, don’t it?”

“How about… _Seas_ the Day?” he grinned proudly.

“Absolutely not.”

“Hmm… _Yachts_ of Fun?”

“Awful.”

“A _boat_ Time!”

“Nope.”

“Eggs-ta- _Sea_?”

“Are you taking me for eggs?”

“No?”

“Then no. Next?”

“Usain _Boat_!”

“A year ago, maybe. Next?”

“The _Cod_ father.” he smirked.

“Terrible.”

“Yeah _Buoy!_ ” he beamed.

I sighed, and dropped my head back against the seat. “I didn’t think you could actually sink lower than Eggs-ta-Sea.”

“Oh, come on! That was good!”

“In 1996, maybe!” I exclaimed. “You are actually the worst, Styles.”

“How about _Moor Often Than Knot_?”

“Better than Yeah Buoy.” I sighed dramatically.

“Wide A- _Wake_ , eh? Eh?” he reached across to nudge me with a smug grin.

“Do better.”

“Free Willy?”

“Cheeky.” I smirked. “Continue.”

“Deez _Knots_.”

“Amazing.” I beamed. “Anything else?”

“Master _Baiter_?”

“Dirty boy.” I chuckled.

“Sex _Sea_...” he trailed off with a huge open mouthed smile.

“Oh my God.” I laughed, burying my face in my hands.

“My B- _Yacht_ -ch.” he grinned as he pulled into a parking lot.

“I told you, this isn’t a _yacht_.” I laughed, undoing my seatbelt.

“The Anchor.” he announced as he cut the engine.

“Like, it’s bound to sink?” I scoffed.

“No, that’s where we are.” he chuckled, pushing open his door. “That’s the name of the pub.”

I grabbed the handle on mine, only to find it stuck and had to heave my entire body weight against it before it budged. “Piece of _Ship_.” I supplied with a shake of my head as I slammed my door and met him round the front.

“I’m so proud!” he beamed, looping his arm round my shoulders and hugging me tight as he led me across the street.

It was an old brick building with red window frames and doors and a large, glossy black sign that read _The Anchor -- Real Ales -- Fine Food_. And, sure enough, as we approached the front door situated on the corner, I noted a large, gold painted anchor hanging above the entrance.

“At least, _that_ anchor has a rope.” I commented as we passed below it.

“Any design flaws are _your_ responsibility.” Harry shook his head. “If the Dirty _Oar_ capsizes on the way home, it’s your fault we’ll die.”

“Nice one.” I smirked, following him upstairs to a small dining area overlooking the rest of the pub.

“Thanks, man!” he beamed as he chose a table for two against the railing.

A waitress approached as we got situated across from each other and greeted Harry familiarly before offering us menus and taking our drink orders. She hurried off to get them started while I flipped open my menu on the wood tabletop.

“Did we really spend an entire drive across the city naming boats on our way to a nautical themed pub?” I laughed.

“You started it.” he shrugged. “You called my car a boat.”

“You mean I called your yacht a riverboat.”

“So you admit it!” he exclaimed.

“Yachta, yachta, yachta.” I waved him off before smiling smugly as he fisted his hair in both hands.

“I have never loved anyone more.” he shook his head with bright, wide eyes.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“A Wasted _Seaman_?” he grinned.

“That’s just gross.” I laughed.

Harry chuckled and gestured to the pub surrounding us. “Have you ever been here?”

“Never even heard of it.” I shook my head, looking around. The place was cozy in a vintage, touristy way. There was an old looking mural of a bunch of British war boats on the back wall and several framed images of ships and Old London.

“It’s one of London’s oldest pubs, so it’s kind of touristy,” he explained. “But I like it.”

“It’s got a cool vibe.” I admitted.

“And great food.” he smiled.

“Come here often, then?”

“Usually make it every week,” he nodded.

“With who?”

Harry shrugged. “On my own, usually. Sometimes Zayn tags along when he’s not busy. Mostly just me, though.”

The waitress reappeared with our pints and pulled a pad out of her apron pocket. “Pie?” she asked Harry with a warm smile.

“Think I’ll do a Chicken and Mushroom, today.” he nodded.

“And for your friend?” she turned that warm smile my way and I panicked. I hadn’t even glanced at my menu.

“Bangers and Mash?” I asked.

“Be right up!” she beamed, as she scribbled it down before heading back to the kitchens.

“So why do you come to this place all by your lonesome every week?” I asked, reaching for my pint.

“ _Ships_ N Giggles?” he asked with another small smirk.

“You’re going downhill fast, Styles.”

He giggled into his drink before shrugging and setting it down. “I don’t know. Just nice to be alone sometimes, innit?”

“So why’d you bring me, then?” I countered.

“Don’t want to be alone _all_ the time, do I?”

I gave him a little smirk. “I don’t know, I always kind of took you as one of those mysterious loner types.”

“What?” he laughed, “You’re joking!”

“Yeah, I am.” I grinned. “You’re more of a social butterfly than anyone I know. Hence the surprise at your secret loner ways.”

Harry laughed and ducked his head, spinning his pint absentmindedly on the table-top. “I mean, you’ve got a big family, don’t you just like to get away sometimes and have some quiet? Not have to share your food or listen to anyone complain or… anything? Just for a little bit?”

“Yeah, I guess I know what you mean…” I admitted. “When I lived at home, I guess I enjoyed a bit of silence from time to time. Now it drives me a bit mad, though. Being surrounded by four kids all the time kind of leaves an impression. When I first left for uni, I had a roommate, but he was never round, so I spent like a week just like, enjoying the solitude. And then I went a bit crazy. I went home almost every weekend my first term, which made it hard to make any friends. Then my second term, I got a shit boyfriend, mostly just to keep me occupied. I ditched him when I got roomed with Niall my second year. He solved all my problems. Filled the silence, became the best friend I’ve ever had, and threatened to beat my ex’s arse when he came pounding down our door at three am, once.”

“I love Niall.” Harry smiled warmly. “I don’t imagine you get a lot of silence with him around.”

“Only when something’s wrong.” I chuckled, just as our food arrived.

“Enjoy!” The waitress smiled.

“Thanks, Sally.” Harry beamed.

“So how’s the solitude of your new flat treating you?” I asked after we’d both taken a few bites of our food. He was right, it was great.

“Mostly good.” he shrugged, spearing a mushroom on his fork. “Been practicing guitar a bit when it gets quiet. Niall’s showed me a few more chords, and I’m working on a song.”

“Writing one?” I asked, perking up.

“Nah, I’ll leave that to you boys.” He laughed. “Just, learning someone else’s.”

“What song is it?”

“Erm… a good one?” he tried.

“You’re not going to tell me?” I pouted. “You’re the one who brought it up!”

“I didn’t mean to!” he laughed, covering his rapidly reddening face with both hands.

“Aww, come on, love, tell me!” I begged.

“How about… I’ll play it for you. When I’ve finished learning it.”

“When’s that going to be?”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Christmas Eve?”

“No shit?” he asked. “How did I not know that?”

“How did I not know you owned a yacht? We all have our secrets.”

His dimples popped and my stomach swooped accordingly. I doubted that would ever change. “Fuck, fine. So I’ve got like a month to master this song, and then I’ll play it for you for your birthday, yeah?”

“You’ve got to sing it for me, too.”

“You’re asking a lot.”

“I’m needy. That shouldn’t be a secret by now.” I shrugged.

“Fine.” he smirked. “I’ll play you my song -- and sing it -- for your birthday.”

“On Christmas Eve.”

“On Christmas Eve.” He agreed with a nod. 

“Do I still have to get you a present, or does this count as a birthday gift?”

“You most definitely have to get me a birthday gift _and_ a Christmas gift. They are two separate National holidays. Don’t you dare try to fuck me out of two gifts.” I pointed a threatening finger at him and he shook his head with a silent laugh.

“The song could count as _one_ gift -- and I won’t try to fuck you out of two gifts by making the singing part a separate one -- and then I’ll get you another for Christmas. How’s that sound?”

“Singing me a song is a courtesy, not a gift.”

“Says who?!” he laughed.

“Says the dozen songs I’ve sang to you!”

“But you’re actually, properly good!”

“Oh fuck off, Mr. Lion. I’ve heard your lion song, and I’ve heard your drunk karaoke, and you have no ground to stand on.”

“Fine.” he chuckled, dipping his gaze before meeting my eyes with a bashful smile. “I’ll sing it for you. _And_ get you two gifts.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” I smirked.

“I don’t doubt it,” he grinned, reaching across the table to steal a piece of sausage from my plate.

“Correct me if I’m mistaken, but I seem to remember you complaining about having to share food, not ten minutes ago.” I smirked as I lifted my pint to my lips.

“I didn’t complain about it. Everybody else does. Liam and Zayn never stop complaining about me stealing their food. I just like to try other things sometimes.” he pouted.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got six siblings, and I don’t mind sharing.” I grinned, nudging my plate forward before reaching to steal a bite of his pie.

“You like it?” he asked as I chewed.

“Salty,” I nodded. “It’s good.”

“You like a Salty _Swallow_?” he beamed, pulling the front of his shirt open with a dramatic swoop to reveal his swallow tattoos.

“I’m getting you a new license plate.”

 

“Thanks for bringing me here.” I smiled as we stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“You should feel special, I don’t bring just anyone to my favorite pub in London.” he smirked.

“Thanks,” I repeated, somehow a bit softer than I’d intended. “I had fun. You could, erm, let me know if you ever wanted company.”

I didn’t realize how close we were standing until he exhaled a warm breath across my cheeks. “Yeah. I will.” he nodded.

My eyes dipped to his plump, pink lips. They were wet and parted just enough that his two front teeth showed through the gap. And then his lower lip was being chewed on by those very same teeth, and my eyes leapt back up to find his searching mine.

“Get a room, faggots.” A gruff voice grunted as someone shoved roughly past.

And just like that, the spell was broken. Whatever might’ve, could’ve -- definitely shouldn’t’ve -- didn’t.

Both our gazes shifted to the broad back of the man who’d spat those ugly words with such ease as he crossed the street. He joined the queue waiting for the ferry and dropped what looked like an overnight bag at his feet before pulling his phone from his pocket as more people filed into the chained off queue.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, turning back to Harry with a mischievous grin.

“No.” he laughed.

“Probably smart of you.” I admitted. “How bad do you hate a public scene?”

“I'm an actor.” He scoffed.

“Then wait here.” I grinned as I began backing away across the street.

Even I could admit that this might be one of my dumber ideas, but I had a couple of things working in my favor, that day:  
1\. It was nearing rush hour, and the line for the ferry was quickly growing. He was closed in, with nowhere to go.  
2\. My target was wearing a tie, which I (hopefully correctly) assumed meant he had a very serious job, and unlike Harry, would do everything he could to _avoid_ a public scene.  
And, 3. In my white Vans, painted-on cuffed jeans and fitted jumper, I hadn’t look more like a twink since I was seventeen in red fucking chinos.

“So that's it?” I shouted as I approached the chain at the side of the queue. I waited as half a dozen heads turned my way, before the homophobe on the phone glanced up. “You’re just leaving?”

“Excuse me?” he arched an eyebrow at me.

“That's it?” I repeated, louder. “After everything we've been through, you just fucking moved out?!”

“Mate, I don't--”

“MATE!” I threw my arms up in exasperation. “You spend three years riding my cock and then have the nerve to call me MATE?!”

“What?!” he squawked, face turning a lovely shade of crimson.

“I gave you the best years of my life Kevin!!” I cried, “I am in my sexual prime! And you repay me by LEAVING while I’m at work?!”

He glanced nervously at the two lines of people separating us, and I noticed for the first time that they had parted, leaning out of the way in an effort to allow our argument space. “I’m not -- Mate, I don't know who you--”

“YOU SAID I WAS THE BEST YOU EVER HAD!” I screamed with more anguish than even I expected. Apparently my acting days weren’t quite so far gone as I might’ve previously thought.

“WHO ARE YOU?!” The bloke suddenly shouted, glancing over his shoulder to confirm that we did, in fact, have the attention of the entire ferry queue. And the surrounding pedestrian traffic that had paused to take in the scene.

“ _Who am I?_ ” I screeched, “Who the fuck are YOU Kevin?? I don't even know you anymore! You disgusting little pigeon! You used to be this mad, passionate, lover!”

“No!” He insisted, flapping his hands about in a clear panic.

“You won't even fuck me anymore, Kevin! You just want to swallow my cock! Gag on it all night and swallow my cum and then RUN OUT ON ME!!!”

The man’s face was beet red. Dark and splotchy and verging on purple. He looked like he might actually be sick at any moment.

“I swear to god, Kevin, if you took the fucking ice cube trays, I'll be back!” Then I spun on my heel and stomped off across the street towards an awestruck Harry. I turned back one last time as I reached the opposite curb to shout, “FUCK YOU KEVIN! We could have had something real! YOU’LL NEVER FIND A BETTER ASS!” And then I caught Harry by the elbow and led him back up the street toward the parking lot.

“Did you just call him a disgusting pigeon?” Harry giggled as we hurried away.

“Maybe?” I shrugged. “I can’t really remember. It was a bit of a blur of adrenaline, if I’m honest.”

“That bloke was massive, Lou.”

“He was behind chains.” I reasoned, picking up my pace and tugging Harry along, all the same.

“You know, if you’d warned me, I could have filmed it and showed my director. And then you could have replaced the Tin Man in the play. Because that was heartless.”

I turned as we reached the car and found Harry beaming at me like a proud mother hen and smiled softly. “No, what he said was heartless. What I did, was karma.”

He shifted on his feet, fiddling with his keys for a moment before meeting my gaze with those earnest eyes I would never get used to. “Thank you.” he murmured. “Nobody’s ever done something like that for me. Not even close.” Before I could begin to form a response, he leaned in and dropped a kiss to my cheekbone before quickly unlocking and opening my door for me.

“Erm, thanks.” I stammered, pulling my sleeves down over my hands as I climbed awkwardly into the car.

The drive back was a bit quieter than our last ride in the yacht. Harry turned on the radio and allowed it to play quietly in the background and we sat in semi-awkward silence for a majority of the drive.

It wasn’t entirely awkward. I didn’t feel the need to fill the silence when I was with Harry. The awkwardness was entirely internal, on my end. After my run-in with “Kevin,” I’d nearly forgotten what the man had interrupted. Until Harry had kissed my cheek in thanks.

Did I want to kiss him? Yes. _Fuck yes._ I’d wanted to kiss Harry since the moment I met him. I don’t think I’d ever _not_ wanted to kiss him. But _should_ kiss Harry? Absolutely not.

If I made a list of reasons why I should or shouldn’t, it would be very short on both sides.

Why should I? I wanted to.

Why shouldn’t I?

“Marcel.”

Harry’s deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts and I turned to him with a frown. “What?”

“He’s here.” he pointed at a black Range Rover as he parked behind it on the street.

“What’s he doing here?” I asked nervously. I’d just nearly kissed Harry not twenty minutes ago, and I was immediately being thrust into the presence of the very reason it would have been a terrible idea.

“Think we’re about to find out.” he nodded towards the door to his building just as his brother emerged and caught sight of the monstrous car we were sitting in.

“Fuck.” I sighed.

“It’ll be okay. I promise.” he smiled reassuringly -- or tried to -- before opening his door and climbing out.

I took a deep breath before facing the music, myself, and when I stepped out of the Salty Swallow, I came face to face with Marcel.

“Louis.” he frowned, glancing over my shoulder where I felt Harry come to a stop. “How’s it going?” he asked tightly, smart enough, it seemed, not to make any accusations for once.

“Doing alright, you?” I answered as casually as I could manage.

“Just dropped by to see H. Didn’t realize he had company.” he added to Harry in a low tone that threatened a loss of composure on the horizon.

“I was actually just heading home.” I shrugged, tossing a thumb over my shoulder towards my flat. “I’ll see you--”

“Wait,” Harry cut me off. “While I’ve got you both here, there’s something I wanted to ask you about.”

I turned to face him more fully, partially to listen to his question, and mostly to avoid Marcel’s penetrating gaze. “Ask away.” I nodded with a forced smile.

“Look, erm, Zayn and Liam have been bugging me to have a housewarming party, but I just don’t have enough space for a party.”

“Maybe a very small one.” I reasoned with a chuckle.

Harry smiled in return and nodded. “Yeah, I thought maybe a movie night this weekend? Just all of us? But I wanted to make sure you two could… I don’t know. Handle spending an evening in a very small enclosed space without tearing each other’s heads off?”

 _Fuck._ “Way to sell it.” I smirked before turning to Marcel. “What do you think?” I asked uncertainly. “Can we put everything behind us for a night?”

“Think you can keep your hands off my brother for a night?” he countered.

“Okay, fuck this.” I sighed, turning back to Harry. “Sorry, Haz, I’m gonna go. I’ll talk to you later.” I gave his elbow a squeeze as I passed and didn’t make it more than half a dozen steps before I heard a groan of frustration behind me.

“Wait.”

I paused on the sidewalk, but I didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry.” Marcel sighed.

I waited for more, and before it came, he appeared in front of me with a frown.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. We should… we _can_ put it aside for a night.”

“Can we? Or are you going to sit around waiting for us to look at each other funny so you can pounce?”

He winced and took a deep breath, letting it out in a huff before nodding. “I deserve that, I guess.” he admitted. “Look, I can’t make any promises. But like, I can try. I will. I’ll try, for Harry.” A throat cleared behind me and Marcel rolled his eyes before adding, “For us, too. I’m sorry things ended the way they did. I know I didn’t handle things right. I know you’re not seeing Harry. I shouldn’t still be so jealous of him. I just… I didn’t expect you to be here, and it threw me a bit. I’m sorry.”

I pursed my lips and nodded once. “I’ll see you Friday night, then?”

“Yeah.” he swallowed heavily. “Friday night.”

I gave him one more nod before turning back to Harry. “Thanks for lunch, I had fun.”

“Me too.” he grinned. “See you in class tomorrow?”

“Yep.” I smiled. “See if you can come with anything better than the Salty Swallow.”

A burst of laughter escaped without permission and he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle it as I backed away down the sidewalk.

I was having ramen for dinner with Niall, later that night, when I got a text message.

 

_Harry: You didn’t tell him._

_Me: Tell who what?_

_Harry: Marcel. About Tommy. Why?_

_Me: Wasn’t the right time I guess._

_Harry: Is there ever a right time?_

_Me: Guess we’ll see mate._

_Harry: MATE? After everything we’ve been through?_

_Me: OMG shut up. x_

 

“You turned in your video this week!” Zayn exclaimed, twisting to face Niall and me sprawled on the bed. We’d arrived at eight o’clock just like Harry had told us, only to find everybody else had decided to be fashionably late. Ziam didn’t arrive for another twenty minutes, and ten minutes later, we were still waiting on Marcel.

“We did!” Niall beamed, propping a pillow against the wall behind his back.

“How did it go?” Liam asked.

“Well, we were the first to turn it in--” I began, pausing when Niall cut in.

“Which makes sense, since we have another month to get it in.”

“--but we had to perform our song first--”

“Which we _crushed_!” Niall interjected again.

“Obviously.” Harry reasoned from the kitchenette.

“--then we did a screening of the video--”

“AND WE KILLED IT!” Niall shouted.

“Hundred percent.” I beamed.

“Was that your grade, or are you agreeing with him?” Harry asked cheekily.

“Both!” I laughed.

“And did you bring it with you, like I told you to?” he asked with his very best stern mother look.

“Uploaded it to our Youtube channel this morning.” Niall nodded.

All three boys’ eyes turned to saucers, just as I realized our mistake. “Fuck.”

“How many videos do you have on there?” Harry asked casually as he set a massive bowl of popcorn on the coffee table.

“Just the one.” I lied quickly.

“So like, a ton.” Zayn surmised as a knock sounded on the door.

“You’re not getting out of it, we’re watching all your embarrassing videos!” Harry called as he squeezed past the boys to answer the door. “You’re late!” he exclaimed in place of a greeting.

“Sorry.” Marcel’s deep voice answered without an explanation. “Thanks for waiting for me.”

“Popcorns on the table,” Harry pointed, “And I’ve got beer in the fridge and an assortment of sweets on the counter.”

“Thanks.” Marcel nodded absently, as he caught my eye.

I gave him a small wave which he returned before taking the beer Harry offered him and dropping into the armchair next to the couch. “What did I hear about embarrassing videos?” he asked.

“Lou and Niall are going to show us their finished music video for A.M.” Harry explained. “And it happens to be on his YouTube channel that’s full of old, embarrassing videos.”

“I wish they were all old.” I groaned.

“Okay, honesty time, how old is the latest video you’ve got on there?” Harry asked.

“This morning?” I tried.

“ _Before_ this one.” He clarified with an amused eye roll.

“May?” Niall asked, arching an eyebrow in thought. “June maybe?”

“End of last term, anyway.” I nodded.

“Our _You and I_ video, right?” he asked.

“The good news is, I’m not in that one.” I smirked.

“Alright, alright, I’m ready.” Harry laughed, joining Niall and me leaned against the wall on the bed, with a second massive bowl of popcorn. “Show us everything.”

“Here.” Liam tossed a remote at me, and pointed at the tv where the YouTube app was open.

“Fuck.” I muttered as I typed in our address.

“Can you just play these without any kind of disclaimer first?” Harry asked. “Like, no explanations at all?”

“Oh shit, yes!” Zayn laughed, “No back stories!”

“You’re making this so much worse.” I sighed. “Do you want to see the new one first at least?”

“Yes!” they all cheered.

“Alright, here is A.M.” I announced, clicking play on the video.

It started with Gemma behind the camera entering the party in black and white and immediately settled on Harry, Niall, Liam, Zayn, Marcel and me doing a shot in the kitchen. There was a muffled hum of laughter and conversation before the scene changed to Niall in full color, strumming his guitar on the patio and he started singing.

It switched between black and white in the party for each of the verses, and full color with a warm amber glow when we were on the patio during the chorus. There were clips of Harry and me waltzing, Marcel and me laughing in the kitchen, Niall doing body shots off Liam’s abs, Gemma passed out on the couch, Zayn mixing drinks on the bar, Harry tripping over his own feet and landing sprawled on the living room floor. Marcel ducking his head shyly as I smirked at him over the rim of my cup.

I glanced at him now and caught him frowning slightly at the tv, chewing absently at his lower lip.

“Seriously, mate, that was sick.” Harry announced when the video ended with the audio cutting to all of us singing the last verse together before fading to black.

“That actually turned out much better than I anticipated.” Liam agreed, turning to grin at us over his shoulder.

“Thank’s for the vote of confidence.” I laughed.

“You did good.” Marcel agreed softly, catching my eye with a hesitant smile.

I returned it with a small nod. “So did you.”

“Can we watch my video now?” Niall whined, grabbing the remote from my hands and scrolling down to our _You and I_ video.

“Go for it.” I laughed. “I’m gonna need some candy, though.” I added, crawling to the edge of the bed and heading for the pile of sweets on the counter.

I’d seen the video a hundred times during the editing stages, so he didn’t wait for me to start it, and the boys were immediately stifling laughs behind me as I dug through the pile of candy. I had just settled on a Cadbury Oreo when my phone vibrated in my pocket and I pulled it out.

 

_Not-Harry: Truce?_

 

I glanced up and found him flipping his phone over and over on the arm of his chair as he stared absently at the tv. It was what we needed, if we wanted to live peacefully within this group of friends we suddenly shared. So I replied with the only thing I could.

 

 _Me: Yeah. Of course. x_

 

 _You and I_ was a tragic love song Niall and I had written last year, and when our _Intro to Production_ professor had assigned a music video with full production, we’d chosen that song for it. Since it was an intro class, the expectations were pretty low, so we hadn’t put much effort into it. We did the whole thing in black and white, and had Niall writing in a diary and staring moodily out the window of out flat as he sang the whole song himself. He made it as dramatic as possible and it was awful, in the best way.

And the boys loved it.

“Crazy how fast things change, innit?” Niall speculated as the rest of us laughed. “Last term we were these sad lonely hermits that made these terrible videos in our flat, and now we’ve got a sick group of mates that help make our videos infinitely less pathetic.”

“Fractionally less pathetic, maybe.” I smirked.

“Marginally, at least.” Harry shrugged, earning himself an elbow to the ribs.

“I thought we came to watch a movie!” I whined. “Not go on about how pathetic we are!”

“Lay off ‘em,” Marcel chuckled with another small smile. “Let’s start the movie. What are we watching?”

“Liam chose.” Harry shrugged.

“The new _Power Ranger_ movie!” he answered excitedly.

“I heard that wasn’t very good.” Marcel arched an eyebrow at him.

“Who cares?” Zayn smirked, “Have you seen the bloke who plays the red Power Ranger?”

That was enough to convince everyone, and we quickly (mostly) quieted down for the movie. But I was still a bit stuck on something Niall had said. _Crazy how fast things change._

He was right. Things had changed a lot since last term. Last term I was bouncing from boy to boy, focused more on school than my social life, and spending more nights home with Niall than anywhere else. Now, we had a whole group of mates that got us out of the house more nights than not, who caused my studies to take a back seat, but simultaneously helped me to put out some of the best work I ever had, and who had accepted Niall and me into their group of friends seamlessly.

But things had changed even since the beginning of term, too, hadn’t they? Our seamless group had changed. I had dated, and broken up with Marcel, causing a shift not only between the two of us, but also him and Harry. Then, Liam and Zayn had been dragged in, changing the friendship I thought I’d been building there. Niall was now spending at least as much time with Harry as he was me, and Harry and I… well. It seemed like Harry and I were the only thing that hadn’t changed.

We had to make a bit more effort, there for a while, yeah. But realistically, nothing had changed since we met. We still joked and laughed all through History. We still spent every Friday night together, even if it wasn’t always at the pub with the lads. And that easy friendship that we’d formed after our first hour in class together was still just as easy as ever.

A shrill ringing noise drew my attention to the kitchen where Marcel was pulling another beer from the fridge. “Erm, Lou, I think this is you.” he cleared his throat awkwardly as he picked up my phone where I’d left it on the counter and brought it back to me. “Got a Facetime call.” he mumbled, passing it over before retreating back to his chair.”

Harry paused the movie as I glanced down at the screen to find Tommy’s big face grinning back at me and I accepted the call.

“LOU!” he shouted across the line the moment it connected.

“BAAABE!” I laughed back.

“BAAAAABE!” Harry beamed, leaning into the frame.

“WE GOT APPROVED!” he exclaimed, ignoring us both. “WE GOT THE FLAT!”

“I knew you would!” I grinned. “When do you move in?”

“Who cares? We got the fooking flat!”

“Give me that.” Lottie’s voice laughed from off screen before there was a shuffle and her face replaced his. “We’re moving in two weeks. He knows that, he’s been told. He was just so stressed about getting approved for the flat, he hasn’t been taking anything else in.”

“I told you it would all work out.” I reminded her.

“You’ve got a great job lined up, remember?” Harry added from where he’d propped his chin on my shoulder to listen in. “Both of you! You’ve got to have a little faith in yourself.”

“Thanks, Harry.” she beamed. “Anyway, we just wanted to call and tell you the good news.”

“TWO WEEKS!” Tommy shouted in Lottie’s ear earning another whined _Baaabe!_ from my sister.

“BAAAABE!” Harry and I mimicked her right on cue.

“Oh fook off, you two.” she laughed. “I’m hanging up, now. Mum says to call her tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I laughed.

“Congratulations, Lots!” Niall called from Harry’s other side.

“Everyone says congrats.” I added.

“Thanks.” she beamed. “We can celebrate in two weeks!”

“TWO WEEKS!” Tommy shouted again, further off, this time.

“Can’t wait.” I grinned before disconnecting.

“So, um. When’s Lottie coming to town?” Niall asked casually.

“Fuck off, they’re excited.” I laughed.

“Who’s that?” Zayn asked, his dark eyes flashing with a bit more understanding than I expected to see there.

“My sister Lottie, and her boyfriend Tommy. They’ve been talking about moving to London for ages, and came down a couple weeks ago to look for jobs. Harry hooked Lottie up with a job at Lou’s salon, and Tommy’s got a job at that Italian place by campus. They applied for a flat the day after the gallery show.”

“Did they get it?” Niall asked with another cheeky smirk.

“Dunno, why don’t you call and ask her?” I chuckled. Before elbowing Harry in the ribs again. “Where’s that movie at, Styles?”

Harry pouted, rubbing his ribs dramatically and pressed play again, waiting until everyone had turned their attention back to the film before nudging me lightly with his shoulder. He nodded towards his brother and I turned to find him pressing his lips together like he was trying not to smile.

“Looks like he’s figured it out.” he whispered.

I chuckled quietly and picked up my phone from my lap again, tapping my photo album open. I scrolled until I found a photo of Lottie, Tommy and me that Harry had taken the night they visited, and sent it to Marcel with a message attached.

 

_Me: In case you still needed clarification, I’m not dating my sisters boyfriend. Or anyone else._

_Marcel: Sorry for Zayn and Liam._

_Me: Just tell them to stop hating me and we’re good. x_

 

Harry grinned and threw and arm round my shoulders before stealing the last piece of my Cadbury Oreo.

“Piss off!” I laughed, balling up my wrapper and tossing it into his lap.

“Wanker.” he smirked.

When I turned back to the film, I caught Marcel turning back too. I wasn’t sure if knowing that Tommy wasn’t mine would help or hurt things between us. I didn’t know if he would just go back to wondering what was going on between Harry and me all the time.

Then again, I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on between Harry and me, anymore, so I guessed he wasn’t alone on the matter.


	12. Chapter 12

I was woken Friday morning when a whoosh of cool air rolled down my back, quickly followed by a warm body and a couple of knobby knees knocking the back of mine.

“You awake?” Niall murmured, shivering as he curled into my back.

I mumbled something that was meant to be _fuck off_ but sounded a bit more like _fffmmmppppffff_ , even to my barely conscious ears.

“Can you be?” he asked, low and hesitant.

My brow crinkled into a frown and I rolled over to face him, blinking in the dim, early morning light. “S’matter?” I mumbled, reaching for him.

He came willingly, cuddling into my chest and exhaling a deep sigh. “Remember Ellie?”

_Ellie?_ “The girl from the pub? You went on a date with her?”

“A couple, yeah.” he nodded, head nudging my chin with each incline.

“You never told me what happened.” I remembered.

“Long story.” he mumbled.

Niall was notoriously private with his love life. He hooked up with girls from time to time, and he’d had a few short term girlfriends over the years, but he tended to play his cards close to the vest. “I’ve got time.” I offered lightly, scratching my nails up and down his back the way he liked when he was tired.

He sighed and turned his face into the pillow, voice muffled as he explained, “She was messing around.”

“Aww, Ni…” I sighed. “Why didn’t you say?”

He emerged from the pillow with a shaking head. “No, I was the mistress.” his brows drew together in a frown. “From the very beginning.”

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, if he wanted. After a few beats, he did.

“She’s in my Studio class, but I’d never spoken to her until she showed up at the party at Ziam’s flat… with Ed. He introduced her to Harry and me as his _friend_ Ellie. And then I spent the whole night chatting her up and he didn’t say anything. Then I ran into her at the pub, next week, and we…” he dropped his head to my chest. “I asked her on a date after class a few days later and she accepted. And, like. I used the word _date_. I wasn’t fucking around.”

“She clearly was.” I muttered bitterly. “You want me to beat her up?”

Niall cracked a smile and shook his head. “Nah, I’m not too bothered.”

When I frowned in confusion -- he had woken me up at the arse crack of dawn to tell me a story he wasn’t too bothered over? -- he chuckled and continued.

“It wasn’t my fault. She and Ed weren’t _officially_ exclusive, or whatever. So when he introduced us, he couldn’t exactly lay any claim to her. And when he went home with her that night, he obviously didn’t see me as a threat. She was the one who fucked with both of us.”

“Good point.” I sighed. “Still sucks.”

His gaze dropped to my chest and he fell silent for long enough I knew he had more to say. So I waited. “So, remember when Ed was at the Gallery Show?” I nodded and he took a deep breath before continuing. “I invited him.”

“Okay?” I nodded easily. Nothing he was saying made sense. He was telling me a story in fragments and pieces, leaving out only the details that would link them all together.

“See, we figured it out, because I took her out one night, yeah? At that Mexican place? It was like, our sixth date. And then Ed showed up with some mates, and sat behind her. She didn’t see him, but he saw us and we were clearly on a date. He waited until we’d finished and then followed us out and confronted her on the sidewalk. Said she needed to figure out what she wanted. He didn’t need a commitment, but she was more than just fun to him. Once I figured out what was going on, I told her I couldn’t see her again. I wasn’t into the sneaking around. Then Ed and I went and got drunk at the pub. We hung out a couple of times. I told him about the gallery thing, and he showed up. And then we went out again.”

“Ni…” I sighed gently, understanding blooming slowly in my tired mind.

“We’ve hung out loads before, but… never just the two of us. Usually he’s just around at the pub, or we’ve had some classes, but we’ve never like, sat around and talked, got to know each other, really.”

“And?”

“He plays guitar, you know? And he has a wicked voice. He writes songs and performs them at open-mic nights for fun. We’ve been playing together a bit, wrote a song last night.”

My lips curved up into a fond, if not sleepy, smile. “Yeah?”

“He went to Ireland over the summer to visit family. Been stuck on this song for months. He played the bit he had for me and we finished it. It’s sick.” he chuckled quietly.

“Gonna play it for me, then?” I teased, giving him a pinch in the ribs.

He opened his mouth to respond when we were interrupted by the front door slamming.

“Niall…?” I asked, lifting my eyebrows expectantly. “Was that--”

“Ed!” Harry’s voice sounded pleasantly surprised from the living room. Almost as surprised as I sounded when I whipped my head round to stare at my door that stood slightly ajar.

“ _Harry?!_ ” I called.

“Lou!” His voice returned cheerfully just before his head poked in through the crack. “Ed’s out here! Niall! Hi!” he beamed, pushing in through the door and flopping down onto the bed, squishing into the limited space between Niall and me.

“Heya, Haz.” Niall chuckled.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I grumbled. “It’s the middle of the night and you’re way too happy.”

“It’s almost seven,” he laughed, digging his fingers into my ribs. “And I promised I’d help you move Lottie in today, remember?”

A throat cleared softly, and we all turned at the sound finding Ed standing uncertainly in the doorway. “I -- erm -- I should probably go.” he stammered uncertainly. “Erm, I’ll talk to you--”

“Get your arse in here.” Niall chuckled, shoving Harry and by proxy, me, until we scooted over.

Ed’s cheeks turned an incredible shade of pink as he shuffled across the carpet and climbed carefully onto my bed.

“Half an hour ago I was sleeping peacefully, you know.” I sighed dramatically, tugging a corner of the duvet out from under Harry and tucking it under my chin.

“If I make you breakfast will you love me again?” Harry pouted.

“You’re overestimating my affection for you, Curly.” I smirked.

I didn’t have time to react before his fingers were diving under the duvet and digging relentlessly into my ribs.

“NOOOO!!!” I shouted, thrashing and kicking, connecting with his shins several times through the layer of blankets.

“Alright, you. That’s enough.” he chuckled after one thrashing knee came particularly close to his groin. He rolled on top of me and pinned my arms to the mattress at my sides, flattening his entire weight on top of me. “What do you want for breakfast, hm?” he asked before dropping his head to my heaving chest and turning to consult the other boys in my bed, too.

Ed shrugged awkwardly and Niall smiled fondly before turning back to us. “Could go for a fry-up, meself...” he trailed off with a significant look in my direction.

“We’ll need to make a run to Tesco’s.” I pointed out.

“We can go.” Harry nudged me discreetly and I nodded in agreement.

“Yeah. If this fucking behemoth let’s me up.” I struggled to push him off long enough for him to give in and roll to my other side.

“Get dressed then, and we’ll go.”

“Do I actually have to get _dressed?_ ” I sighed.

Harry lifted the edge of the duvet high enough to stick his head under before emerging with a nod. “Need more than that to be served in any decent establishment.”

“Your loss.” I grinned before shoving him completely off the bed.

 

I got a text from Niall about two minutes after Harry and I left the flat.

 

_Niall: Changed our minds. We’re going out for food. Call me later if you need help with Lotts._

 

“They bailed.” I chuckled, turning my phone so he could see the message there.

“So now what?” he asked, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

I turned to face him and pulled the sleeves of my hoodie over my cold hands. “What do you want to eat?”

He shrugged and looked off down the street towards his flat. “I’ve got some food. I could whip something up for us?”

“S’long as there’s tea, I’m happy.” I nodded, setting off again.

Harry’s flat was infinitely warmer than mine -- smaller space probably helped -- but nonetheless, I hated the cold, so I flopped down on his bed and pulled the duvet over my head while he headed for the kitchen.

“So… Don’t take this the wrong way… And like, it’s none of my business...” He began, trailing off uncertainly.

I popped my head out just far enough to look at him across the room and lifted an eyebrow in question. “What?”

“Like… is Niall straight? Like, a hundred percent?”

I burst into laughter and sat up, pulling the blanket up to my chin as I leaned against the wall. “Honestly, I don’t know. He’s never been with a guy before that I know of, but…” My mind flashed back to a night two years ago that I’d tried my best to repress. “There was this time…”

Harry turned to face me and paused, waiting expectantly with an empty mug in each hand.

“Like, I told you about that guy I dated my first year of uni, yeah? Just because I was lonely?”

“The one you chucked when you met Niall?” he asked, brow furrowed as she recalled our conversation.

“That one.” I nodded. “Well like, he tried to get me back once, we ran into him at a pub and he asked for a second chance. And I panicked and told him I had a new boyfriend. Then Niall comes up out of nowhere and throws his arm round me, kisses me on the cheek and like, _oh hey, I’m Niall._ and shakes his hand.”

Harry burst out laughing and finally set the mugs down before dropping tea bags in each of them. “What a lad!”

“No, like, you don’t understand. We’d known each other all of like, a month, maybe. He caught on pretty quick that my boyfriend was a knob, and kind of gently helped me realize I didn’t need him. Then spent an entire evening pretending to be my boyfriend to keep him away.”

“The entire night?!” Harry laughed.

“He bought my all my drinks and danced with me. Kept his arm round me when we were sat in a booth and held my hand as we left.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” I smiled fondly at the memory.

“Wait, why does this make you question his sexuality?” Harry frowned, coming to join me on the bed with tea. He passed me one and I gripped it between both hands, absorbing the warmth as I continued.

“There’s more.” I sighed. “You have to understand, I didn’t date a lot back then. I’d hooked up with a few guys, and had a couple boyfriends, but I didn’t like, go on _dates_. I was barely twenty and fresh out of a year long, shitty relationship. So that night at the pub with Niall was like, the best date I’d ever been on, and it was with my fucking _fake boyfriend_ in an attempt to ward off my ex-boyfriend. And Niall bought me like, eighty shots, and I got drunk.”

“Understandable.” Harry murmured when I didn’t continue.

Harry was always just so… _understanding._ It was infuriating. Here I was digging up memories I’d spent two years trying to repress, and he was just sitting there, so accepting. I wanted to hit him for it.

I also kind of wanted to kiss him for it.

Instead, I dropped my gaze to the contents of my cup and continued, doing my best to sound unbothered. “So like, we got back to our dorm that night, and Niall hadn’t ever seen me that drunk yet. So he thought we should play some FIFA for a bit in case I got sick. And we’re like sitting on this little futon we had, like squished up against each other, and I just…” I fish mouthed a couple of times before giving up with a shrug and taking a tentative sip of my tea.

“I did that once.” Harry sighed.

I perked up a bit at that, turning to look at him. “You kissed one of your best mates when you were drunk?”

He nodded slowly, brow furrowed. “Tried to. Didn’t end as well for me though.”

“What happened?”

“I had this friend in school. Xander. We were like, inseparable for a year or so. And I had a massive crush on him. And I was young and inexperienced, and I thought it was mutual, but I was too shy to make a move. And then I finally did. And it was the last time I heard from him.”

“Ever?” I asked, shock evident in my voice. “Just, poof! Gone?”

“I mean, pretty much. Think Marcel is still friends with him on facebook. Told me about a year ago that he came out. Guess he just wasn’t ready back then.” he finished with a shrug.

“Why is Marcel still friends with him? I thought that was your thing, you two? Someone breaks your heart, and they’re on both your shit lists.”

“I never told him.” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was too embarrassed. I just told him we’d got in a stupid fight and he wasn’t speaking to me anymore. He wasn’t close with him, so it didn’t really affect him.”

I pursed my lips for a moment before admitting, “I never told anyone either.”

“Did he even remember?”

I scoffed and nodded. “He did. We talked about it.”

“Yeah?”

“He didn’t like, push me away, when I kissed him. He just let me kiss him, and then smiled at me and said he thought it was time for bed. So he tucked me into my bed and put a bin next to me. He wasn’t in the room when I woke up, and it took me a minute to remember what happened. _That’s_ when I got sick. Sober me knew a little better that it was all an act, and I was just physically ill over it. It wasn’t like he could avoid me if he wanted to, like Xander did. We had to _live_ together, for another six months. I was in the bathroom just fucking dying when he got back with coffee and bagels for us. He brought me some water and handed me my toothbrush when I was done. Which just made me start bawling.”

Harry’s dimple popped as his face split into a grin and I elbowed him in the ribs.

“Shut up.” I chuckled. “I apologized, and I told him I knew it was a mistake and all. Told him I guess I just wasn’t used to guys being nice to me, and it fucked with my head when I was drunk. He told me it was partially his fault for letting me try to keep up with him. Told me not to worry about it. No like, _Don’t let it happen again_ , or _You know I’m straight, right?_ Just. _Don’t worry, we’re fine._ He took me out and got me just as drunk the next weekend. Gave me a piggyback ride home. He didn’t get weird. He was amazing.”

“That’s hard to do. Even when the person is the gender you’re attracted to. It’s hard not to let things get weird after something like that.”

“Tell me about it.” I narrowed my eyes at him and he nudged me with his shoulder.

“Shut it. Sounds like you’ve got plenty of practice.”

“Sounds like.” I chuckled.

“So. Ed?”

I bit my lip and shrugged. “They’ve known each other casually for about a year. Through classes and stuff. We ran into him at the pub a few times and had a good time. Apparently they both got played by Ellie and chucked her when they found out she was fucking both of them.”

“Ouch.”

“He came and woke me up this morning to talk. I think he likes him. I just don’t know if he’s surprised by it or not.”

“Niall’s a good friend.” Harry smiled.

“The best.” I agreed. “I think I realized it that night. Before that, I just liked that he talked a lot and it helped me feel a bit less lonely.”

“He’s good at talking.” Harry chuckled, but he had a far off look in his eyes like he was thinking a bit deeper than he was letting on. “So, what time are we supposed to meet Lottie and Tommy?”

I checked my phone and saw a text message from her.

 

_Lotts: Ten minutes out. Meet @ the flat?_

 

It was sent half an hour ago. Oops!

“Looks like we’re running late.” I smirked. “Better get going.”

Lottie was predictably pissed that I was late, but when Harry handed her a box of cupcakes as a housewarming gift, she stopped shouting, at least.

They didn’t have a lot of furniture yet, but the cold weather made my knees ache climbing the stairs over and over. And when it started to drizzle as we unloaded the boxes, from the moving truck, I cursed my sister for choosing October in England to move to the city.

Harry, Tommy and I finished the big stuff quickly, and Lottie had almost all the small stuff unloaded when we came back for the heavier boxes. Still, by the time we finished, and Tommy had left to take the truck back to the rental place, I was frozen, and grumpy and ready to lie down.

“Put the kettle on, will you?” I called to Lottie who was tearing open boxes in the kitchen as I flopped back onto her new futon couch.

“Looking for it!” she hollered back.

“I’m freezing!” I whined.

“You’re a baby.” Harry smirked, dropping down against my side and throwing an arm round my shoulders.

“You’re an arse.” I pouted, curling into his side and absorbing all the body heat I could get.

"So what about Halloween?" Lottie asked, setting her kettle and a box of Yorkshire on the countertop. "Anything good going on?"

"I don't know, we've got ages to figure that out, don't we?" I yawned.

"Lou, you know Halloween is on Tuesday, don't you?" Harry laughed. "Like, _this_ Tuesday?"

"No, it's... Shit. It is, innit?"

"That club on the South side of campus does a big costume party every year. Prize money for best costume. I think it’s tomorrow night." Harry suggested.

"That sounds sick!" Lottie grinned.

"What the hell am I supposed to dress as, though?" I frowned.

"Bowie." Harry answered without a seconds’ hesitation.

I turned to him with a chuckle. "Are you going to dress like Jagger?"

"Sure," he shrugged. "We'll all dress like our old man doppelgangers!" He added excitedly.

"You really think you'll get Marcel to dress in drag and pose as my wife?"

"You don't think he'd look pretty?" Harry asked innocently.

"That is not the point I'm trying to make." I dodged. "I just don’t think he'd do it. God knows he doesn't want to pretend to be my wife."

"Or maybe he does." Harry wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

"In that case, no. We are not doing this whole thing. I'll be a fireman and ask people to pull on my hose, first."

"Ugh! Lou!" Lottie groaned joining us as Harry fell off the couch, rolling with laughter. 

"Geez, it wasn't that funny." I grinned, rolling my eyes fondly.

"Okay, new plan.” he panted, grinning like a madman. “You dress like Bowie. All out. Face paint, glitter, the whole nine."

"That's fair." I deadpanned.

"And I'll dress like Jagger. Fuck the rest."

"Hang on," I pointed an accusing finger at him, sprawled on the floor as he was. "No cheating. I want like spandex era Jagger. Pink suit, booty shorts, leather pants Jagger with ruffles and capes and nipples flying free."

"All four of them?" He smirked.

"Don't you dare half arse this, Styles! Promise me!" I ordered.

"I promise." He grinned, dimple popping.

"And, yes. If there is a single nipple unaccounted for, all other efforts will count for nothing." I added very seriously.

"I think I can handle your terms..." He nodded thoughtfully. "Might have something in mind."

"Might have to force you to take me shopping," I winced, turning to my sister.

"Oh my god!" She gasped.

"I'm regretting this already." I groaned.

"No! Lou!" She jumped to her feet and yanked on my hand. "Come here!"

"What?" I frowned, getting reluctantly to my feet.

"Stay!” she ordered, when Harry moved to sit up. "You don't get to see him until Halloween."

"At all?" He pouted. He actually pouted, my God, who even is this kid?

"Just his outfit, you donut!" She laughed over her shoulder as she led me to her bedroom.

"I don’t have an outfit." I reminded her.

"Did you just call me a donut?" Harry called from the living room as Lottie tore open a box labeled BOTTOMS.

"I think I've got something that'll work. Like... perfect!"

I watched as she dug, making a mess of her neatly folded jeans, skirts and joggers before she pulled something shiny from the depths of the box.

"What do you think?" She beamed.

"You expect me to wear that in public?"

"IT'S HALLOWEEN, LOU!"

" _Fine!_ " I groaned, "What do I wear it with?"

"Even better." She beamed, tossing the bottoms at me as she spun to flip through the few things she’d already hung in her closet. " _This!_ "

I marched out to the living room to find Harry sprawled in the same spot we'd left him and I dropped down onto his stomach less than gently. "How confident do you feel about your Jagger outfit?"

"Very confident?" he tried.

"Confident enough to win the prize money?"

"Sure." he laughed.

"You’re not taking me seriously. But it'll be you crying when my outfit wins.”

"Are you proposing a bet?" he narrowed his eyes challengingly.

"Make it good. Loser buys dinner." I jabbed a finger into the middle of his chest.

“What if neither of us wins?”

“Then we'll buy our own fucking dinner! I don't need no man!" I exclaimed.

Harry's big hands squeezed my thighs and he nodded. "Deal."

 

Twenty four hours later, I was less confident. Lottie had been painting and making me up for over an hour, and I was feeling abnormally exposed wearing something so risqué in front of my little sister. The fact that my silver leggings were actually _hers_ was just another level of weird I couldn’t bring myself to acknowledge at the moment.

“I’m having regrets.” I winced for the third time.

“Quit moving, or you’ll have to add an eye patch to this get up, and you’ll regret even more.” she deadpanned.

“How much glitter does one man need?!” I exclaimed.

“I’m done! Fuck, shut up!” she laughed, throwing her brush down on my kitchen table before dropping into a chair.

“Let’s see it then!” Niall called from the couch where he and Tommy had been playing FIFA in his leprechaun costume for the past hour.

“I can’t go in public like this.” I whined, looking down at my lap. “Let me change into jeans, at least. The leggings are too much.”

“Show me,” Niall ordered. “I’ll be the judge.”

Reluctantly, I stood out of my chair, angling my junk away from my sister as I passed and went to show Niall my costume.

“Don't forget the coat!” Lottie reminded me, snatching it off the back of the chair I'd vacated and tossing it to me.

“Right. This monstrosity.” I laughed as I pulled it on.

“God, you look amazing, Lou.” she sighed.

Niall however was taking his time studying my ensemble. Starting with the feathered hair and the glittery lightning bolt painted across my face. Lottie had put eyeshadow on me and done some contouring to bring out my cheekbones -- “Not that you need it,” she'd scoffed -- and packed so much red and blue glitter on top of my lighting bolt I could barely move my face.

Then there was the monstrosity my sister called a coat. A ruby red, sequined bomber jacket that admittedly fit me like a glove and would keep me marginally warmer as we pranced around town in near freezing weather.

And lastly, the reason I was rethinking almost every choice I'd made in the last week. The leggings. Apparently I'd underestimated my sister's wardrobe. Who even owned _silver leggings??_ Was that a trend I'd missed?

"Gimme a spin." Niall ordered twirling his finger in the air between us.

"I hate you both." I sighed, even as I obeyed.

I heard the door open, just as Tommy whistled, "Jesus, Lou, where’ve you been hiding that arse?"

"Not a secret, mate." Niall laughed as a round of applause broke out behind me.

I finished my spin and came back to face Niall, beaming at me from the couch, and Ironman, Captain America, a giant banana, and the Jag himself clapping enthusiastically in the doorway.

"I hate you all." I repeated, even more miserably. “Just let me put jeans on?”

“Hiding that arse is a felony, mate.” Zayn shook his head. “No go.”

“It's a no from me too.” Liam agreed with pink cheeks. “The leggings make the whole outfit.”

“I look like the bloody Tin Man.”

“Should've worn my lion costume then.” Harry smirked. And it was then I noticed _his_ ensemble.

“Where the actual fuck did you get a velvet jumpsuit?” I demanded.

“Um, got it on a whim at an op shop once. Gem helped me hot glue the stars on last night.” he grinned, fingering a silver star on his rib cage.

“You found a powder blue, velvet jumpsuit in an op shop and just thought. Fuck. Gotta have it.”

“Don't pretend you're surprised.” Marcel smirked.

“And are you _actually_ a banana right now?” I added, shaking my head in disbelief. “I can't believe this is my life now.”

“Believe it, mate!” Niall grinned, draping his arm around me. “And keep the leggings. The vote’s unanimous, right boys?”

There was a general murmur of agreement and I sighed in defeat. “Fine. Least I'll be warmer than some people.” I lifted an eyebrow to Harry's nipples -- all four of them -- peeking out the front of his jumpsuit.

“And you can give me my coat back when I freeze my arse off.” Lottie laughed, adjusting her seashell bra. She and Tommy had done a couple costume, sort of. He'd dressed like a sea captain with a peacoat, hat and fake beard, and Lotts was a mermaid with rainbow shimmery makeup. She looked beautiful.

“You can take my coat, babe.” Tommy promised, pressing a careful kiss to her blue temple.

"Let me know if you need help naming your ship.” Harry offered Tommy very seriously on our way out the door. “I've got loads of ideas.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, don't start that again!” I groaned, shoving him out the door.

We walked to the club at the other side of campus, arms wrapped round ourselves against the chill, and Harry and I fell towards the back of the pack as we filed down the sidewalk.

“I see all four nips made it to the party.” I smirked.

“Doctor’s orders.” he laughed.

“I can’t believe you already owned this thing. Have you ever worn it?”

“Outside the house?” he smirked, “No. Been waiting for the perfect occasion. I look amazing in it! Couldn’t waste it on just anything, could I?”

“And I look like the Tin Man fell out of Tinkerbell’s arse.”

“Dorothy’s ruby slippers would have matched perfectly, though.” he pointed out with a smirk.

“Thanks.” I deadpanned.

“You look amazing, Lou.” he said more earnestly, shaking his head in awe. “Really gorgeous.”

I sighed, and dropped my gaze to the sidewalk under my feet. At least Lottie had allowed me to wear Vans, but only because I didn’t have any better options. Harry, I noticed, was wearing silver ankle boots. Of course he was.

“I wish I had your confidence.” I admitted. Harry scoffed, and I nudged him in the shoulder, looking up at him. “Look at you. You’re just strutting down the street with four nipples flying free from your velvet jumpsuit.”

“It’s Halloween.” he shrugged easily. “And you threatened me, if they weren’t out.”

“Still. It’s just easy for you. I’ve never seen you insecure.” I shook my head in wonder. “I don’t know if you even have it in you. You’re always so sure of yourself, I’ve always been jealous of that.”

“You want to know the secret to confidence?” He smiled conspiratorially, waiting until he got a nod in return. “You just — fake it til you make it.”

“WHAT?!” I laughed.

“ _Nobody_ is a hundred percent self-assured, a hundred percent of the time. Everybody has things they’re insecure about, Lou, it’s just that some people are better at hiding it. And if you _look_ confident, nobody else will know the difference. The more you _pretend_ , the truer it actually becomes.”

“So, you’re just a great actor, really.” I smiled softly.

“I, at least, _pretend_ I’m a great actor.” he smirked. “And the more I pretend, the truer it becomes.”

“You’re insane.” I laughed, bumping into him with my shoulder again.

“Give it a try.” he chuckled, dropping his arm round my shoulders. “You look incredible, Lou. Own it, even if it’s just for a night.”

 

The club was packed, and some of the costumes were insane. From homemade pop culture references, to store bought pumpkins and witches, every single person in the club was dressed up. It was amazing.

They handed out stickers with numbers printed on them at the door and instructed us to stick them somewhere visible so that people could find it if they wanted to vote for us in the costume contest. Harry stuck his right in the middle of his naked chest before turning to find me struggling.

“Where do I put it?” I frowned, holding out either side of my sequined jacket. “It won’t stick to this, will it?”

“How about -- wait!” he laughed, yanking my jacket open to see the t-shirt I’d layered underneath. “ _Who the Fuck is Mick Jagger?_ ” he read, dimples popping. “This is amazing!”

“I’m amazing.” I smirked. “But if I stick my number to it, the jacket will cover it.”

“Here,” he took my sticker from me and dropped his hand, slapping it on my bum before I had a chance to protest. “That’s where everyone’s eyes will be. Might as well advertise.” he added with a wink before tugging me off in the direction of our friends who were squeezing in against the bar.

When _Dancing in the Street_ came blasting through the speakers just as I finished my first beer, Harry pulled me out onto the dance floor.

“Own it!” he shouted against my ear before twirling me.

I barked a laugh, and just thought, _fuck it._ It was Halloween, and everybody was probably halfway trashed already. What have I got to lose?

So we danced, if you’d call it that. We fucking frolicked, prancing and grinding and skipping round so enthusiastically the crowd was forced to make room for us. It wasn’t some movie montage like _Grease_ where the crowd parts to watch the best dancers claim the floor. We were absolutely awful. Really, terrible dancers. But what we lacked in skill, we made up for tenfold in enthusiasm.

We strutted off the floor at the end of the song to the cheering and applause of our six friends and absolutely no one else, and we were greeted with shots of tequila. It was the beginning of an unforgettable night.

Ed joined us along the way at some point dressed as the gingerbread man from Shrek, and Niall's eyes lit up at the sight of him. Marcel danced with a short blond boy dressed as a hotdog, laughing the whole time as people snuck photos of them on the dance floor. And eventually we remembered to vote for our favorite costumes.

The bartender gave each person a ballot, then marked our hands with a Sharpie so we couldn’t cheat and vote twice. It turned out there was more than one category. We had to fill in numbers for each, Best Couple Costume, Best Group Costume, Scariest Costume, Funniest Costume, Most Creative Costume, and Overall Best Costume.

“I’m voting for the Deviled Egg guy for the funniest.” Harry shouted over the music.

“Of course you are.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got to do Lotts and Tommy for the best couple one or she’ll kill me in my sleep.”

“I’m gonna do the Kid and the wiener.” Harry paused. His eyes widened. “Marcel! I’m _voting_ for _Marcel_ and the wiener -- _Hotdog!_ Marcel and the Hotdog boy!”

“Nice save.” I smirked. “Very smooth.”

“Shut it.” he blushed.

“Neither of you are voting for us?” Liam frowned adorably.

“You literally dressed like a couple of superheroes who just spent an entire movie _fighting_. How is that a perfect couple?” I laughed.

“Shit, I didn’t think of that. Should have done Batman and Superman.” he sighed.

“You already have the costumes?” I chuckled.

“They have _all_ the superhero costumes.” Harry wrinkled his nose. “We don’t ask.”

Liam wiggled his eyebrows teasingly before handing his ballot to the bartender and leaving us to find his Ironman.

We both voted for ourselves for Overall Best. I voted for a group of people who’d worn animal onsies with TY tags round their necks for Best Group because they were clever enough to show up to a party in pyjamas and I was jealous. And I voted for Harry for Funniest. And for Scariest, just to see the look on his face when I showed him. And I put Lottie down for most Creative, because I still couldn’t figure out how she got her tail like that.

They announced the winners at one o’clock, and I was sufficiently plastered when Niall yanked me over to the bar for another shot as the girls who’d dressed as KISS won for Best Group.

“Niall is trying to kill me.” Harry whined in my ear, draping his entire body over my back.

“You’re going to kill me!” I retorted, sagging against the bar. I caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Have some water.” I added, waving the bartender over.

“How does he drink so much!” he wheezed. “I’m spinning!”

“Uh oh…” I frowned, peeling him off my back to turn around and face him. “Are you gonna be sick? You want to get some air?”

Harry did something between a nod and a shake, hair falling over his hooded eyes. “Air. Yeah.”

“Come on, love.” I sighed, taking his hand and tugging him through the crowd towards the door.

I wasn’t listening the the DJ announcing the contest winners anymore. I was just trying to get Harry outside before he passed out or worse, puked all over the dancefloor. So when people started patting me on the back, cheering and shaking me, herding me towards the stage where the spice girls and someone dressed like a zombie already stood with gold painted skeletons as trophies, I shook my head adamantly.

“No, I’m going that way!” I frowned, “Outside!”

“You won!” A short girl in a purple wig shrieked in my ear. “Go!” she gave me a shove towards the stage, and Harry’s hand tightened on mine as we were shoved off course.

“What did I win?!” I asked as I passed, but no one could hear me over the cheering.

As the crowd parted, I caught sight of the DJ glowing on the stage, dressed as a neon green skeleton. “Here they are!” he announced in that used car salesman voice. “Our winners for Best Couple, _David Bowie and Mick Jagger!_ ”

“WHAT?” We exclaimed.

I was yanked up onto the stage, and turned to face Harry as he stumbled up beside me with wide amused eyes.

“Treat yourselves to something nice, yeah?” Mr. Skeleton laughed as he pushed a check into my hands and shoved us off to the side next to the KISS girls.

“You are the cutest couple all night!” The blonde dressed as Gene Simmons squealed, pulling us into a group hug with her very drunk friends.

“Thanks.” I mumbled into her perfume scented hair.

“You have to do a shot with us after this!” the girl with a star covering one eye insisted, taking my free hand between both of hers. “PLEASE!!”

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Harry nodded. “More shots, of course.”

“Sure?” I asked, giving his hand a squeeze.

He grinned and squeezed mine back. “I’m okay for one more.” he nodded.

“Famous last words.” I smirked.

 

My phone ringing sounded distant and fuzzy the next morning. Far enough away I didn’t plan on waking up to answer it. Except, I was woken abruptly when a heel connected with my shin a moment later. I groaned when the light from the window hit me next and buried my face in the pillow.

My head was pounding, my stomach just a touch uneasy, and my mouth felt like the Sahara. Definitely drank too much, then.

Another phone, with a different ring went off and the mass beside me shifted just before a flailing hand landed heavily on my face. Growling, I shoved the hand away before sitting up straight and searching for the offending phone.

I blinked at the white curtains hanging, half-closed over the window. Then the plant on top of the bookshelf. I dropped my gaze to the boy beside me, snoring softly as if he hadn’t just given me a black eye. His hair was matted and stuck to his temples with a thin layer of sweat. He had a bit of red glitter stuck in his eyebrow and a bruise blooming on his shoulder.

The phone began ringing again, and Harry whined, flinging an arm in my direction again.

“Oi! Quit that!” I grumbled, smacking his hand away before climbing over him to dig his phone out of the pile of clothes on the floor. The first thing I picked up was silver. Silver leggings. My stomach did a flip as I looked down and realized I was wearing nothing but a pair of tight briefs. I’d chosen the tightest pair I owned last night, so they wouldn’t bunch under the leggings.

The leggings which were bunched in a ball on the floor. I spotted my t-shirt next, flung over the back of the armchair. And my sparkly red jacket was… on the floor just inside the front door.

Harry’s jumpsuit was on the floor, halfway under the kitchen table. _What the fuck happened here last night?_

The phone rang again, this time causing Harry to groan and throw his pillow at me on the floor. “ _LOU!_ ”

“Right, phone, sorry.” I muttered, pulling his phone out of the tangled mess that was my t-shirt and what looked like a gold g-string, but I didn’t allow myself to examine it that closely, and instead finally looked at the screen to see who was calling.

_Marcel._

“It’s for you.” I offered, holding the phone out to Harry.

“Answer it.” he mumbled into the pillow he hadn’t thrown at me.

“It’s Marcel. I’m not answering.” I insisted, crawling back onto the bed.

A frustrated groan escaped his lips as he flung his arm out to accept the phone from me. “Stop calling me!” he whined into the receiver in place of a greeting. His arm must’ve given up, because a moment later he dropped the phone to the mattress between us and rolled his head just far enough to see what he was doing as he put the phone on speaker and turned the volume way down.

“We’re hungover.” Marcel’s voice came across the line sounding ten times better than either of us felt.

“Go back to sleep.” Harry mumbled.

“We need food. Meet us for breakfast?”

“Where are you?”

“Stayed at Liam and Zayn’s. Niall and Ed are meeting us for breakfast in half an hour. We can’t get a hold of Louis. If you hurry you can pick him up in time to meet us. We’ll be at the waffle place Zayn likes.”

“Kay.” Harry grunted before hanging up on his brother. “Think I need to throw up.”

“Need a bin?” I asked.

“Need to sleep all day.”

“That was my idea, but someone punched me in the face.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

Harry sighed, rolling to face me better. “We could just turn our phones off and go back to sleep.” he offered, blinking sleepily. The blanket had shifted when he rolled revealing a long expanse of bare chest that made my stomach roll in a very non-alcohol-related way.

“We should probably go.” I decided, tearing my eyes away from the butterfly I’d once traced with my tongue. “Bit of food will settle your stomach.”

“Probably right.” he sighed.

“Um. Do you have something I could borrow to wear? I only have silver leggings. Some joggers or something?”

He nodded slowly, looking around the room at the clothes thrown every which way. “Erm, did we… what exactly… happened? Last night?” he frowned.

“We didn’t.” I began. ”At least, I don’t think. To be honest I don’t remember much after… shots with the KISS girls and then… Think you were doing ballet?” I rubbed a hand down my face. “My head hurts.”

“I’m naked.” he admitted quietly, meeting my eyes with a vulnerability I’d never seen there.

“Think I found your g-string down there.” I shrugged, going for nonchalance, even while my stomach twisted with heat. When Harry’s expression didn’t relax, I reached out and gave his hand a squeeze. “I don’t know what happened. But I can tell you for certain, your cock was not in my arse last night. I’d still be feeling it this morning, believe me.”

Harry’s eyebrows pulled together and he shook his head. “No, I’m -- I mean, I wouldn’t -- I…” he fish mouthed for a moment before understanding washed over me like a tidal wave.

“You’re a bottom.” I breathed with wide eyes.

“I… thought you knew?” he stammered.

“I guess we never got that far, did we?”

“Are… You’re…” he seemed to change his mind halfway through and snapped his mouth shut, cheeks turning a lovely shade of red.

“I’m… technically versatile, I guess. I just… Most people who are attracted to me prefer being on top.”

“Can’t say I blame them. You should have seen your arse in those leggings, Lou.” he chuckled sleepily.

“You should have seen your everything in that jumpsuit.” I smirked.

We stared at each other in silence for a long beat before the butterflies in my stomach were too much to handle. “Okay, we need to go to breakfast. Now.” I decided.

“You have paint and glitter on your face.” he grinned.

“Shut up and give me clothes.” I pouted.

“Give _me_ clothes.”

He directed me to the correct dresser drawer and lent me a pair of joggers, a white t-shirt, a grey hoodie, and even a pair of briefs when he saw me about to tug his joggers on over yesterdays ones.

“You can’t run round in dirty pants, Lou.” he scoffed, throwing me a pair of black briefs.

Then he allowed me to wash the remaining glitter and makeup from my face while he dressed in jeans and a lilac jumper. He didn’t bother fixing his hair or brushing his teeth, but I was secretly glad he didn’t. He looked so cozy and soft with bags under his eyes, knots in his hair, and _lilac_ sweater paws. I just wanted to crawl back into bed and cuddle him all day.

 

I pulled my hood up as we walked to “the Waffle place Zayn likes” and curled into Harry’s side when the wind picked up. The clouds looked like a storm was rolling in, and there was a chill in the air that I fully resented.

Niall, Ed, Liam, Zayn and Marcel were already seated at a long table when we arrived, leaving two open seats beside each other at one end next to Niall. Conversation died down immediately as we entered, and Harry and I exchanged a look before taking our seats and accepting coffees from the waitress who was pouring refills for the other boys already.

“You’re late.” Niall smirked.

“Would’ve liked to have stayed asleep, but someone called me eighteen times.” Harry narrowed his eyes at Marcel.

“I only had to ignore one call.” I smiled innocently.

“Looks like you ignored about nineteen, actually.” Ed smirked over the rim of his coffee.

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned.

“Your hair is full of red and blue glitter.” he chuckled, pointing to the left side of Harry’s head.

“I _knew_ it!” Liam beamed, then same time Zayn hissed, “ _Shit!_ ”

“Knew what?” I frowned.

“That you two’ve been shagging in secret!”

Zayn pulled a tenner out from his wallet and passed it to Liam. “You couldn’t have waited until Christmas hols to fuck him?” he frowned at Harry.

“ _What?_ ” Harry exclaimed loudly, clutching his head in pain at the sound of his own voice. “I’m not fucking anyone!”

“You bet on it?” I frowned.

“That’s what I said.” Niall nodded, ignoring me completely, “But now I’m not so sure.”

“What?” It was my turn apparently. “You, of all people, know we’re not shagging.”

“I thought I did.” he shrugged.

“Then what changed?”

“Harry showing up with glittery sex hair and bruises?” he leveled me with a look.

“And you showing up in Harry’s clothes.” Marcel added quietly. “You obviously stayed over last night.”

“I…I mean. Yeah, but--”

“Harry stays over with you at least once a week, mate.” Niall pointed out.

We hadn’t exactly been hiding our sleepovers. I mean, Niall lived with me. He was fully aware. But we hadn’t exactly shared the details with the rest of our friends. Not that there were any details to share.

“Plus, if you were trying to convince people you’re not fucking, last night probably undid everything you’ve accomplished.” Ed laughed. “I only found out you weren’t boyfriends when Niall told me this morning.”

“What?!” I asked.

“Why?” Harry frowned.

“You were all over each other, mate.” Zayn deadpanned.

“Don’t you remember?” Liam asked.

“We danced…” I trailed off.

“And won Best Couple Costume.” Marcel chipped in.

I glanced his way and was surprised to note he didn’t look angry, for once. More like... calculating. And I didn’t know if that was better or worse.

“Did we win money for that?” Harry asked, turning to me.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“You won a hundred pounds!” Niall exclaimed. “How drunk were you?”

“Very.” We answered together.

“We were on our way outside for air when we got called up on stage. Harry was spinning.”

“Kept it down at least, didn’t I?” he sighed. “I think?”

I gave him a sympathetic smile before turning back to the table. “We’re not fucking.” I sighed. “I don’t even remember going to his place last night. I just woke up to a hundred phone calls.”

“I don’t remember anything after the award.” Harry agreed.

“You probably fucked.” Ed smirked.

“They’ve been fucking for weeks, I’m telling you.” Liam insisted.

“We have not!” I groaned. “I haven’t been laid since this one!” I nodded at Marcel, whose cheeks flushed as he ducked his head.

“Is this why you called so many times?” Harry frowned at his brother. “So you could interrogate me?”

“I mean,” he shrugged. “Not entirely. We were going to breakfast either way.”

Harry sighed and dropped his head to his hands. “There’s a reason I moved out, Marcel.”

Marcel’s shoulders drooped and he frowned as Harry got out of his seat and left the table without another word.

“This isn’t some game you can bet on.” I shook my head in disappointment. “This is our lives.”

And then I got up and followed Harry out of the cafe.

“Haz,” I called as I jogged to catch up with those long legs.

“I’m going back to bed.” he sighed. “I have to work later and I feel like death, and I just want to sleep until afternoon.”

“Hey.” I frowned, catching him by the wrist and pulling him round to face me. “You’re not mad at _me_ , are you?”

Harry sighed and shook his head before pulling me in for a hug. “No. I’m sorry.” he mumbled into my hair. “Just… sick of this whole situation. Come back to bed with me?” he asked, pulling back to look down at me with tired, bloodshot eyes. “We can cuddle until we don’t feel like puking?”

“Or until one of us does?” I smirked. “Yeah. Come on, then.”

He kept his arm around me as we began walking, and I tucked myself into his side, absorbing as much warmth as I could. We made it about half a block in silence before I broke it.

“What situation did you mean?” I asked softly, “That you’re sick of?”

Harry sighed and took at least five more steps before speaking. “Just all of this, I guess. I just wish things had happened differently. I’m not -- I made some mistakes, that’s all.”

“What mistakes?” I breathed, stomach clenching.

“A threesome with the boy I liked and my brother who also liked him, for one?” he frowned.

I let out a humorless laugh and nodded. “Tell me about it.”

“That’s the big one, really.” he sighed. “Everything else kind of stemmed from that.”

“I never planned on that, you know?” I asked It suddenly seemed very important that he knew that.

“I know. I wouldn’t still be hanging out with you if I thought that, would I? Don’t hang out with Nick anymore.” he pointed out.

“Then how did it even happen?” I asked as we climbed the steps to his building. “You told me from day one that you wouldn’t, and then the next thing I know, I was sandwiched between you in my kitchen.”

Harry shrugged and gave me an apologetic smile. “I told you. I made some mistakes.”

He turned to unlock the door and waved for me to go ahead of him. And then it happened. A _Ding!_ sounded in my pocket, immediately followed by one from Harry’s. Then another. And another. And another. _Ding! Ding! Ding!_

“What the fuck?” I frowned, pulling my phone from my pocket. I had a message from Zayn. Another from Ed. Another from Marcel. Still more from Liam, Niall, Zayn again, Ed again. And they kept coming. 

I clicked on the first one and it opened to a blurry photo of Harry and me dancing. And I knew it was innocent. I knew it was that time when Harry was telling me a joke about a ghost and a witch that wasn’t even a little bit funny. But the photo looked worse than that. We had our arms round each other, Harry’s head was bent close to my ear so he could be heard over the music. And my head was thrown back on a laugh exposing my neck. It looked like he was coming in to kiss it, I could admit that much, but he didn’t. He wasn’t. He was just being Harry. Telling terrible jokes that were only funny because _he_ laughed so hard at them, you couldn’t help but join.

A video came through next. It must have been later in the night, because I don’t remember the heated argument I was apparently in with one of the KISS girls. I could barely hear over the pumping music, but it sounded music related. I was shouting about drum beats or something, before reaching out and yanking Harry over.

“Tell her I’m right!” I shouted petulantly.

“He’s right!” Harry nodded, without question.

Then the camera shifted down to show our fingers intertwined between us.

“Shit.” Harry hissed.

“What’ve they sent you?” I asked, glancing up to see him pressing a hand to his forehead as he stared down at his phone with a look of horror written clearly across his face.

Harry passed his phone over and leaned against the wall.

It was a video. Harry and I were at the bar, probably waiting on drinks, and it looked like we were talking. The sound was terrible, but once I picked out the music over everything else, I realized Harry was singing. It was Shania Twain. My hand rested flat on top of his butterfly and when the chorus began I joined in, beaming up at him. “You’re still the one that I love! The only one I dream of! You’re still the one I kiss goodnight!”

“Jesus Christ.” I sighed, exiting out of the video. It went back to a feed of messages between him and Marcel.

 

_Marcel: How often do you serenade your “best friends” with your favorite love song?_

 

Above that, there was a photo of me arguing with the KISS girls. My brow was furrowed and my hand was reaching out between us as if I was in the middle of making a very important point. And there was Harry beside me. It must have been taken just after the video Zayn sent me, only from a better angle. Harry and I were holding hands between us, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part, was Harry’s face.

Dimpled cheeks, bright eyes, one lip pulled between his teeth. It was a face I was familiar with. One I’d seen a lot of over the past couple of weeks. It was… fond.

“Should we…” I swallowed and locked Harry’s phone before passing it back to him and meeting his frown with one of my own. “Do you think… should we like… take a break? Or something?” I hated saying it. I hated even thinking it. I didn’t want to take a break. I wanted my friends to let me live my life without making me feel bad about it.

“Is that what you want?” Harry asked, eyes dropping to his shoes.

“I mean, I guess I just didn’t realize how… wrapped up in each other we’ve become?” I hedged.

Harry lifted his chin to squint at me. “Is that such a bad thing?”

I fish mouthed for a moment then gave up, sighing. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to change how we are.” Harry frowned. “I like hanging out with you. I like cuddling with you and dancing with you and having sleepovers and movie nights and I like making sure you’re fed.”

“I’m not a child.” I smirked.

“No,” Harry grinned, reaching for my hand and lacing our fingers together when I met him halfway. “Just hopeless in the kitchen.”

“Careful,” I narrowed my eyes playfully, “You’re the only person I’m not mad at today.”

“Does that mean you’re not leaving?” He asked hopefully. 

“Leaving?” I frowned. “Why would I?”

“Two seconds ago you sounded like you were breaking up with me.” He shrugged. “Talking about breaks and space and it’s not us, it’s them.”

“None of those words left my mouth, Harold.” I rolled my eyes before caving and smiling fondly. “And I’m not leaving. You promised me a nap and cuddles until we feel better.”

He grinned and tugged me further into the flat without another word. We climbed back into bed and Harry rolled away from me, humming happily when I cuddled into his back, clinging to him like a spider monkey. “You’re the best cuddler.” he mumbled, tugging my arm tighter round him.

“You’re always so warm.” I shrugged, tucking my face into his curls. They smelled a bit like smoke and sweat from the club last night, but also a bit like vanilla, and I breathed it in.

“You’re just always cold.” he chuckled.

“Perfect match, then.” I nodded, tucking my frozen feet between his ankles.

“I’m getting you socks for your birthday.”

“I’ll break up with you for real, if you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Niall needed some plot points of his own and he didn’t have a happy ending in my last fic so I’m trying to make up for that just a little bit now. Don’t act surprised, this has been seeded since chapter four ;) Also, if you hate it, don’t fret, it’s not going to be a huge plot point, don’t kill me. X) Guest appearance by Little Mix as KISS because I’ll never let that go.


	13. Chapter 13

The start of November for most students, meant we had to start thinking about the end of term and preparing for finals. For Harry, it meant preparing for his play. And for me, it meant pretending I had a social life outside of him.

I shouldn’t have to pretend. I had my own social life. Of course, I did. We’d only known each other a couple of months. Had it really only been a couple of months?

As I sat at my kitchen table scribbling in a notebook, I was reminded yet again how much things had changed this year. I couldn’t even remember what I did with myself when Niall was busy before Harry and Marcel came along. He’d been spending quite a bit of time with Ed, and while I _was_ spending time with Harry, he’d been too busy to hang out all week.

It wasn’t like Niall and I were attached at the hip. We’d never had more than one class together each term, and that meant we spent a considerable amount of time apart. But what was I doing before I filled that time with Harry?

I had some random friends -- more like acquaintances, really -- from classes last term. I had that guy I dated for about a month before deciding he was boring and telling him I needed to focus on school. I wrote about a dozen songs last term. Some were shit, but a good few were actually decent.

But was that it?

It was Friday night and I was sitting home alone, wondering what my life used to be, when Harry texted me. It was a reply to a message I’d sent him at three o’clock in the afternoon.

 

_Me: Rehearsal all night again ?_

_Harry: Hey. Sorry. Just got out. Ran late again._

 

I glanced at the clock. It was after eleven.

 

_Me: Very late ! Wow_

_Harry: I know. I’m so tired. Just wanna sleep all weekend._

_Me: No rehearsals ?_

_Harry: Afternoon rehearsal tomorrow. Off Sunday._

 

My stomach sank. I was bored, and I was questioning my own life, yes. But more importantly, I missed Harry. Apart from classes, I hadn’t hung out with him in a week, and I didn’t love the feeling.

 

_Me: If you don’t have a day off soon I’m going to come camp in your bed at night just to get some cuddle time in_

_Harry: Haha I wouldn’t mind that. What are you doing tonight?_

_Me: Just been working on a new song_

_Harry: Come sing it to me._

_Me: You’re exhausted remember ?_

_Harry: Then sing me to sleep._

_Me: You’re crazy if you think I’ll sing you an unfinished song mate_

_Harry: Then just come sleep by me?_

 

The question mark at the end was what got me. It wasn’t cheeky anymore. Not like asking me to sing him to sleep or saying he wouldn’t mind me squatting in his flat. This was a request. A tentative one.

Sure, we’d had a hundred sleepovers by now. But each time had been when one of us was over hanging out with the other and ended up staying. Or when we’d gone out and stumbled home drunk. Never like this. Never calling late at night to request a sleepover specifically.

It made my stomach flutter.

Before I could make myself type out a message politely declining, another message popped up.

 

_Harry: Missed you this week._

 

Well fuck.

 

The door was unlocked when I arrived, and I let myself in without knocking. He was cuddled up in bed, duvet pulled up to his chin with music playing softly from his phone lying on the bed beside him.

“You came.” he smiled sleepily.

Something I’d learned over the last few weeks, was that Harry Styles could fall asleep anywhere, any time. He’d just lie down and start snoring.

“Thought you’d be asleep by now.” I chuckled kicking off my shoes by the door and shuffling across the tiny flat to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Told you,” he mumbled, reaching a hand out the edge of the blanket to nudge mine. “Missed you.”

“So go to sleep now.” I smiled, ignoring the heat crawling up my neck.

He lifted the edge of the blanket and waited expectantly until I’d shed my hoodie and crawled in beside him. For once, though, he didn’t immediately roll away, looking to be the little spoon. Instead, he pulled me into a hug and let out a sigh that sounded like he was deflating.

“Missed you too.” I admitted softly, resting my cheek against his temple.

A soft snore was my only response.

 

I woke up starving with a flashback to the bag of burnt popcorn I’d had for dinner the night before. Definitely wasn’t enough. I wanted to wake Harry and beg him to make me breakfast, but the dark circles under his eyes stopped me. He was exhausted.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and googled “easy breakfast.” I knew it was risky trying to cook something on my own, but if anything bad happened, Harry was only about ten feet from the stove. He could save me. And on the off chance nothing bad happened, maybe he’d appreciate breakfast in bed?

I found a recipe on a food blog for “Easy Cinnamon French Toast Sticks” that had very thorough instructions. I was mostly confident I could handle it.

Apparently, I was the only one, though.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry shot up out of bed with wide, panicked eyes. “Lou! What are you doing?!”

“Relax.” I chuckled, flipping a stick over in the pan with a fork. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“It’s burning.” he mumbled, crawling out of bed in a very small pair of briefs.

“It’s not!” I insisted, diverting my eyes back to my bread. “That’s just the butter.”

“I’ve got a nose, Lou. The butter is burning.” he sighed, reaching over my shoulder to turn the burner down a bit. “That’ll be better.”

“Go away! I’m being nice, for once!”

“For once.” he smirked.

“Harold. Sit.” I ordered, pointing to the table with my fork.

“Fine, fine.” he chuckled, backing away with his hands up in surrender.

I turned to pull the first batch of toast sticks from the pan, then reached for my plate of soaked sticks on the side when I heard a snort from the table.

“ _How do you whisk?_ Louis Tomlinson, please tell me this is a joke?!” A small tinny voice echoed across the room and I winced.

“What?” I shrugged, feigning indifference. “You’ve got so many torture devices in this fooking kitchen.”

“I can’t believe I’m trusting you with my kitchen.” he giggled. “You’re going to give me salmonella, aren’t you?”

“Lucky for you, you said I was _over_ -cooking it, so fook off.” It was my fault I’d left my phone open on the table to a Youtube video explaining the complexities of a kitchen whisk.

“Are you sure you don’t need help, though?” he asked after the video was done.

“I know I can’t be trusted,” I sighed, “But just… sit there until something catches fire, yeah? Then you can call a sexy fireman.”

“Or, I could put out the fire myself, and you can treat _me_ like a sexy fireman.” he propped his chin on his fist and smiled innocently.

“Or, you could have a bit of fucking faith, and hope I don’t catch anything on fire, yeah?”

Harry’s cheeks tinged pink as he giggled into his hand and I turned back to the stovetop flipping my toast sticks before pulling a couple of plates down from the cabinet.

“Let me help you with that, at least?” Harry offered, moving to get to his feet.

“Sit.” I ordered narrowing my eyes threateningly. “Let me be nice.”

“For once.” he reminded me.

“Take advantage.” I laughed, serving up the french toast. I flipped off the stove and grabbed some forks before joining Harry at the table.

“French toast?” he asked with bright eyes.

“Easy Cinnamon French Toast Sticks!”

“And you’re sure the eggs are fully cooked?”

“Only one way to find out.” I levelled him with a challenging grin.

His lips pressed into a straight line as he drizzled syrup over his French toast then used his fork to cut off a piece. Then he stabbed it and lifted it towards his mouth. Then he paused, examining it uncertainly.

“JUST EAT IT, HAROLD!”

“Okay!” he laughed, popping it into his mouth.

“Is it terrible?” I winced.

He chewed for a ridiculous amount of time before swallowing hard and sighing.

“HARRY!”

“IT’S GOOD!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” he beamed, spearing another bite. “It’s actually, really good.”

“No need to sound so surprised.” I grumbled. “The instructions were detailed.”

“I’m very proud of you, Lou.” he chuckled around a big bite.

I smiled contentedly and took a big bite of my own, and I was more than a little surprised at how good it was.

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat, pushing a piece of toast round his plate. “So, erm. Why did you decide to be nice, for once, exactly?”

I shrugged -- had a joke on the tip of my tongue -- and then, “Because I missed you this week. You were tired, and I wanted to do something nice before sending you back to that crazy theatre place you never leave anymore.”

He pursed his lips, nose scrunching in that way he did sometimes. When he was trying not to smile, I realized quite suddenly. “I’m off tomorrow.” he offered.

“Yeah, you said.” I nodded.

“Wanna do something?”

“Of course, I do.”

He smiled at his plate, but even the curtain of hair falling over his face couldn’t hide that dimple.

 

“Where you been?” Niall asked absently, as I walked in the door. He was lounging on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, plucking a soft tune on his guitar as he watched the golf channel.

“Had breakfast with Harry.”

He pursed his lips as I passed and I sighed, veering towards the kitchen for a bottle of water. “What’s the face for?”

“You sleep over there?” he asked.

“Yep.”

“And?”

“Made him breakfast, came home when he left for rehearsal.”

Niall’s head finally spun round at that. “ _You_ made _him_ breakfast?”

“Google is a wonderful thing, my friend.” I sighed, dropping down on the other couch.

“Nothing caught fire?”

“Jesus, you sound like Harry.” I rolled my eyes. “Nothing caught fire, and Harold was extremely upset he didn’t get to flirt with a sexy fireman.”

“I’m sure.” he deadpanned.

“Nearly cried. Threw a tantrum and everything.”

“Mhmm.” There was a long pause. An entire commercial played on the tv before he took a deep breath and turned to me. “Honestly, mate. What’s going on with you and Harry?”

“What’s going on with you and Ed?” I countered.

Niall’s eyes bugged and his cheeks tinged with pink. I almost felt bad for a moment. Almost. “Does it matter?” he finally asked, almost defensively.

“No. If you’re happy with whatever is going on, that’s all that matters.” I shrugged.

“And if I’m not happy?” he lifted an eyebrow in my direction.

“Then if you want to talk about it, you know where to find me.” I sighed, pushing up off the couch and turning towards my bedroom.

“Lou, wait.”

I paused, glanced over my shoulder and waited.

“I’m just… wondering, I guess. You always talk to me.” he frowned.

“And you never talk to me.” I pointed out. “You like your privacy, and I respect that.”

“See, but you keep saying there’s nothing going on, and then you get all cagey when I ask about it. I just don’t get it.”

“Because there’s nothing to get, Ni!” I groaned, dropping back down onto the couch and pulling my feet up. “A week ago you were fine with me being friends with Harry, but now you’re making bets left and right -- with these boys I hardly know -- about who I am or am not fucking. Let me settle it for you. I am not, have not fucked Harry Styles. Are you happy? Can we drop this now?”

“I’m not in on the bet.” he murmured quietly, continuing a bit firmer when I scoffed. “I’m not. I was in on the first one between Harry and Marcel, but only until I realized how torn up you were over it. After that night at the pub. I only found out about this bet at the club the other night. I caught Liam and Zayn taking photos of you two and asked what was going on. They said they were gathering proof so they could confront you about hiding a relationship.”

“They couldn’t just _ask?_ ” I exclaimed. “And why would we hide anything? If we were together I’d be yelling it from the rooftop, not sneaking him into my bed every other night.”

A soft smile touched his lips for the briefest moment before he shrugged. “I don’t know. I never thought you were sneaking round. If you were you’d have done a better job hiding it from me, I reckon. But it’s just not you. You’ve never hidden anything from me.”

“I’m an open book.” I sighed, sinking back into the couch cushions.

“So you’re not dating, you’re not fucking. You’re just in love with each other.” he summarized with a little smirk. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I don’t recall saying anything of the sort.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I don’t think you had to, mate.” he chuckled. “It was pretty fucking clear the other night.”

I didn’t humor him with a response to that one.

“You said…” he continued slowly, choosing his words carefully, “That if you’re happy with what’s going on, nothing else matters.”

I shrugged, noncommittally.

“Are you happy?”

“Of course.” I frowned.

“You’re content with things as they are?” he pressed, arching an eyebrow.

“I’m content, Ni.” I sighed, dropping my eyes to my lap. _Content_ was the word. Would I be a bit happier if things were a bit different? Maybe. But maybe I’d be back in the same miserable situation I was in last month, where I was stuck between two boys. Maybe this was best and I just had to find a way to be _content_.

“Then I’ll drop it.” he agreed. “Just… I’m here if you want to talk about anything, yeah?”

“You know that road goes two ways, right?” I countered. “I know you don’t like to talk, but. You can. If you wanted.” I shrugged.

“You think I don’t know that?” he chuckled. “Why do you think I crawled in bed with you last week? You know I avoid that mess of a room as much as possible.”

“Just checking.” I smirked.

 

_Harry: You awake?_

 

It was like ten fifteen. Niall had gone out with Ed, and I had spent the better part of the evening catching up on homework before getting ready for bed early. I was working on a paper for History sprawled on my bed between my laptop and a pile of worksheets from class.

 

_Me: I’m a hundred . I go to bed at 7pm_

_Harry: I hope you stopped for the early bird special first._

_Me: Thought about it but my hip was acting up_

_Harry: Need some Icy Hot._

_Me: Or a bionic hip to match Neil’s knee._

_Harry: You’ll take over the world together._

_Me: We’re getting married. You can be our flower girl._

_Harry: I look great in pink._

 

He added about a hundred pink heart emojis and I found myself beaming down at my phone when my bedroom door opened to reveal Harry Styles, himself.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I asked. I couldn’t even pretend to be mad, the smile that was currently causing my cheeks to ache sold me out before I even opened my mouth.

“Ever heard of manners?” he countered with a matching grin.

“Thought you said you looked _good_ in pink.” I nodded at his pink polka dotted button down as he flopped down across my pile of notes.

“Thought you said you wanted to see me.” he pouted, rolling to rest his head on my knee.

“Thought I said tomorrow.” My smile turned soft and I ran my fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face.

He smiled sleepily and reached up to touch the rim of my glasses. “Cute.”

“How was rehearsals?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

“Hmm…” he sighed as his eyes drooped closed.

I reached down and pinched his ribs causing him to frown and turn his face into my lap. “Go brush your teeth and I’ll clean all this up. Then we can go to bed, yeah?”

“Yes, Mummy.” he groaned, dragging himself out of bed.

I gathered up my notes and shut them inside my laptop, shoving it under the bed before shedding the hoodie I’d been wearing and burrowing down into the duvet. Harry returned a moment later wearing nothing but another tiny pair of briefs and crawled into bed beside me, curling into my chest like a child.

“Spoke with Niall about the bet and all.” I told him as I pulled him closer.

“Yeah?”

“He says he wasn’t in on this one. And he never thought we were together until the Halloween party.”

“And now?”

“He says as long as we’re happy with how things are he’ll leave us alone.”

“Wish I could say the same for Liam.” he sighed, rubbing his nose on my shoulder as if he had an itch. “He sent Zayn to question me this morning.”

“Sounds familiar.” I deadpanned.

“He’ll do whatever that boy asks.” he chuckled with little humor. “Showed up on my lunch break, wanting to know if we’re sleeping together, how long it’s been going on--”

“Who won the bet, basically.” I rolled my eyes.

“Basically.”

“And?”

“I told him to butt out. That I’m already not talking to my brother, if he wants me to keep talking to him, he’ll drop it.”

“You’re not talking to him?” I frowned.

“Stop that.” he ordered, rubbing the frown out of my brow with his thumb. “It’s not your fault. I spent weeks convincing him there was nothing going on between us. He shouldn’t be flipping his switch after one drunken night at a club. He should have more faith in me than that. He should know if there was something going on, I would be honest.”

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? After everything, after all those weeks convincing him you didn’t fancy me, can you really blame him for thinking you’d hide it from him if we did get together?”

“Yes.” Harry said, green eyes fierce in the dark room. “Because after everything we went through, if we got together, I wouldn’t be hiding you. I’d be proud to have you and I’d want everyone to know.”

My cheeks burned and I couldn’t hold his intense gaze any longer. I dropped my eyes to his mouth and nodded. “Fair enough.” I managed.

 

My phone woke me at the crack of dawn and I answered it with a grunt.

“Have you learnt to cook in the last week?” Lottie asked brightly, “It’s Sunday and we don’t have a roast.”

“I never have a roast.” I mumbled, running a hand over my face.

“Well, _I_ want a roast.” she insisted.

Harry rolled to face me and I smiled sleepily. “I bet I could convince Harry to cook for us?”

His answering smile was confirmation enough.

“Be over this afternoon?” I asked Lottie.

“I’ll make dessert if you boys can handle dinner.”

“Sounds good.” I dropped my phone on the bed and buried my face in the pillow.

“Lottie wants a roast?”

I peeked out to see Harry rubbing one eye with the heel of his hand, hair a complete mess, cheek lined with pillow creases. “Mhmm.” I hummed. “Mum makes one every week. I got used to missing them, but I guess Lotts isn’t there yet.”

“That’s a shame. You need a roast, don’t you?”

“Wouldn’t turn one down.” I chuckled.

 

Grocery shopping with Harry was… weird. I pushed a trolley up and down the aisles while he filled it with items off the shelves. A bag of potatoes, a bag of carrots. More vegetables. And more.

“Harry, enough vegetables! Find me some meat!”

“Other end of the store, love.” he just smirked, adding a bunch of celery to the trolley. I tossed in a bag of crisps, which he put back. Then a bag of chocolates -- half priced, leftover from Halloween -- which he put back. Then a tin of biscuits. He squinted at the biscuits for a moment before giving them a nod of approval and continuing down the aisle. My ice cream didn’t make it to the check out, but at least my biscuits did.

When Harry pulled his wallet out to pay, I hip checked him out of the way and handed over my card.

“Lou.”

“No.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“Because even though I’m forcing you to feed my family, I’m not forcing you to pay for it, too.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything.” he sighed, stepping into my side.

The cashier handed my card back, along with the receipt, and I slipped them both into my wallet before pocketing it. “I’m going to force you to carry all of this to her flat on your own if you don’t drop it.”

His lips puckered and his nose scrunched and I jabbed him in the ribs with my knuckles until he budged out of my way and followed me outside holding all the bags himself.

I only lasted half a block before I took my share and we spent the rest of our three block walk to Lottie’s shooting glares and hiding smiles and making silly faces at each other without saying a word.

 

Harry’s roast was even better than my mum’s, but when she Facetimed us after dinner, we lied and told her it was rubbish and that we couldn’t wait to come home for some real food. If the smile she shot Harry’s big head taking up the upper half of the screen meant anything, she knew every word was bullshit.

Lottie made a pumpkin cheesecake for dessert that was actually very good, and spent a full fifteen minutes explaining every step of the recipe to Harry before Tommy and I gave up and moved to the couch to play FIFA. The next time I looked up, Harry had red nails and was halfway through french braiding Lottie’s long hair.

“So are you going to come make dinner and plait my hair every week?” she joked as she blew on her own wet nails.

“You’ll have to pry him away from the theater long enough.” I pouted.

“I’m off on Sundays.” Harry shrugged casually, meeting my eyes over Lottie’s head. “I could make you dinner, if you wanted.”

“You don’t have to feed us, Haz.” I tried, but the smile tugging at my lips definitely gave away how happy that actually made me.

“I know I don’t _have_ to. Somehow you stayed alive this long. I think Niall deserves an award, to be honest.”

“Hey!”

“But, I’d _like_ to.” he finished, ignoring me.

“Forget Lou, you can cook for _us_ anytime you want.” Tommy grinned.

“Plus, it’s my only day off for the next month and a half.” Harry pointed out.

“And you want to spend it cooking for us?” I arched an eyebrow at him. I knew the answer, but I wanted to hear him say it.

“Of course, I do.” he nodded earnestly.

“Fine, I’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll do dinner over here.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” he grinned.

“Little do you know…” Lottie sang, handing him a rubber band as he reached the end of her plait.

“He obviously hasn’t made you cinnamon French toast, yet.” Harry laughed.

 

And that was how it started. The next few weeks were miserable. Niall was off with Ed more often than not, and Harry was tied up with rehearsals. The only thing getting me through the week was Lottie. We started going for dinner at Tommy’s work on Wednesday nights when he worked late, and other than History with Harry, it felt like my only social interaction all week.

Then, finally, on Fridays, I met Harry at his flat and slept over before making him a new breakfast creation Saturday morning and hanging out, only until he had to go back to rehearsals. After which he came back to mine, stayed over, and spent all of Sunday with me.

The second weekend, I made him Cheesy Egg Toast and only slightly burned the first one. Then Sunday morning, we went on a long walk round the park because it was the first decent day in two weeks. It was cold, and I complained the entire time, but the sun was out, and so was Harry for the first time in a full seven days, so I allowed him to lead me round the paths and even let him sit me on a cold metal bench to watch some dogs run after a frisbee for a little bit. Then Lottie made chocolate dipped rice crispy treats for dessert.

 

The third weekend, Ed was over when I left for Harry’s Friday night. And he was still there when I got home Saturday morning. Niall stopped me on my way to my room and asked if maybe Harry and I would like to meet them for a bit of footie Sunday morning. It had been ages since Niall and I had played and the weather was only going to get worse from here on out, but it was supposed to be decent that weekend, so I told him I’d talk to Harry and let him know.

Harry was so excited to be invited along on our footie day, he nearly tripped as we left flat. Then he _did_ trip at the park. More than once. He kept saying the frost on the grass was making him slip, but since he was the only one having a problem with it, I didn’t believe him. He was terrible at football, but surprisingly enthusiastic, which made up for it completely -- until he “accidentally” slide tackled me.

That night, Tommy complained we hadn’t invited him along, and Lottie made enough peanut butter cookies to feed an army. We left her flat with to-go boxes filled to the brim.

 

The fourth weekend, Fizzy took the train down to visit. I made Harry just-add-water blueberry muffins for breakfast -- which he pretended to be impressed with -- before going to spend the day with my sisters. We went to a pottery painting place and painted mugs for my mum for Christmas, and while I was at it, I painted one for Harry.

My mum loved getting homemade gifts from us kids every year, but I guessed Harry probably wouldn’t love my terrible painting skills as much. Even though I had a hunch he would absolutely _love_ a homemade gift. So I tried my best. I decided on a simple design, hard to fuck up, and snapped at my sisters when they spoke to me. I needed all the concentration I could get.

Then I almost killed them over dinner when they blew the surprise and told Harry I made him something. He spent the entire rest of the night giving me those big stupid Bambi eyes while he begged me to tell him what he got.

 

The fifth weekend, it rained. With working mornings to get enough hours to pay rent and rehearsals running til nearly midnight every night, Harry was exhausted. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow Friday night, and slept so late Saturday morning all he had time for was some toast with jam. He scarfed down two pieces while he got dressed and I packed him another two to-go.

We spent Sunday morning cuddled under a fluffy blanket on the couch with Niall’s Yule log on the telly. Harry napped on and off most of the morning while I worked on a couple of song ideas. He read over my shoulder and smiled sleepily as I hummed a tune into the voice memos on my phone.

Lottie made a red velvet cake from a recipe Harry had sent her, and it was so good, I begged her to make another one for my birthday.

 

The sixth weekend, I made Harry bacon sandwiches on croissants I picked up at his bakery on Friday. Which he immediately called me out on, saying I had technically made _him_ make breakfast, since he had actually been the one to make the croissants during his early morning shift on Friday. As punishment, he dragged me to the grocery shop early and on top of picking up everything we needed for dinner, he also picked up enough baking supplies to make roughly a million and a half cookies.

“We won’t have time to make Christmas cookies before you go home!” he whined as we emptied the shopping into his tiny kitchen, separating everything that needed to go to Lottie’s into bags in the fridge.

“That is a true shame.” I deadpanned.

“ _It is!_ ” he agreed, ignoring my sarcasm entirely and setting the oven to preheat. “We’ve got to fit it all in now, so you have something to remember me by while I’m living at the theater this week.”

I laughed at his joke, but it was bitter. “How’ve rehearsals been?”

“Good, I think it’s going to be good.” he nodded. He pulled out a bag of flour and scooped a couple of cupfulls into a mixing bowl. “There’s so many people in the ensemble, and so many dance numbers, that’s what’s been the hardest. Getting all the munchkins and monkeys to look like they know what they’re doing. That might actually turn out to be completely for nothing, but the rest of us are pretty well good, I think.”

“Why can’t _you_ leave on time, if it’s the monkeys who need to keep repeating?” I pouted.

“Because _you_ helped me get a lead and they make us stay for everything.” he smirked. “It’s a good thing I like the other three, because it feels like we’ve been stuck together forever.”

“I didn’t help you get anything.” I rolled my eyes and jumped up onto the countertop beside the bowl he was mixing in. “You were ready before Niall and I even got to you.”

“You boosted my confidence.” he shrugged.

“Spending time with me usually has that effect on people.” I smirked.

“Stir this.” he ordered, narrowing his eyes at me as he set the bowl on my lap. “And don’t talk about yourself that way.” he added over his shoulder as he pulled another bowl from the cabinet.

I stirred -- halfarsedly, at best -- and watched as Harry mixed up a second batch of cookie dough. The bowl in my lap was chocolate chip, no doubt about that. But the one in front of him now, was something different. There were no chocolate chips.

“What is that?”

“Sugar cookies.” he smiled before nodding at my bowl, “Keep stirring.”

Once he’d combined all the dry ingredients, he added the wet ones, then traded me bowls, setting the first one aside and starting on a third.

“Jesus, what’s that, then?”

“Gingerbread.”

“How many types of cookies are we making?” I exclaimed.

“Just these three. We’ll do brownies last.”

“Brownies?”

“Yep. We should be done just in time to bring them to Lotts’ for decorating.”

“There will be decorating?”

“They’re _Christmas_ cookies, Lou!” he whined. “Just humor me? Please?”

“Fine.” I chuckled. “But if mine look like a cat threw up on them--”

“I’ll post pictures on instagram and tag you.” he finished for me.

“I hate you.” I deadpanned.

His dimple popped and he shook his head. “No you don’t.”

We had three bowls of dough mixed, and three cookie sheets at the ready. I watched as Harry used a scooper to drop balls of dough onto two of the sheets using about half the chocolate chip, and half the sugar cookie dough before sliding both sheets into the oven.

I watched him clean up, passing him bowls and whisks and things to wash, then frowned at the last bowl.

“What about this one?” I asked, spinning the gingerbread bowl on the counter.

“That one is special.” he grinned. “Ever made stained glass cookies?”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Not dangerous.” he chuckled pulling a rolling pin down from a cabinet.

“What are we doing?”

“First, I need you to move to the table.”

“For what?”

Before I realized what was happening, his big hand circled my wrist and he tugged me off the counter. “I need your spot, and I need you to hit things.”

“I get to hit things?” I perked up immediately.

He set five small bowls on the table, then dumped a bag of hard candies next to them. Then he turned and presented me with a wooden mallet. “One color at a time, unwrap, put them in a bag, and smash.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Just trust me.”

For the next fifteen minutes, I did as I was told. I separated a million little candies by color, unwrapped them one color at a time, dumped them in a bag, then smashed them to bits. By the time Harry had put the second batch of cookies in the oven and mixed the brownies, I had five bowls of different colored candy dust. Red, blue, green, purple, and pink.

“Now what?” I asked, swinging my mallet threateningly.

“Now, you give that back.” he smirked, taking it away and hiding it in the cabinet. “Then we decorate.” He took the last cookie sheet from the counter and turned to show me the two big gingerbread men lying side by side, surrounded by a dozen or so smaller cookies shaped like Christmas trees and stars.

“And what, we just drop this on top?” I frowned, nudging the bowl of pink candy.

“Nope,” he shook his head, setting the dough men down in front of me and reaching back for a tupperware from the counter. “First we cut holes. Then we fill them with candy, so when we bake them, the candy melts and looks like stained glass.”

I pictured it, and nodded slowly. “That makes sense… Sounds disgusting, but I guess it would look sick, yeah?”

“It tastes better than it sounds, but yes, they’ll look sick.” he laughed. He joined me at the table and opened the tupperware to reveal a collection of cookie cutters. All different sized ones, and all different occasions. Some circular metal ones, some small pink hearts, I spotted a pumpkin shaped one and what looked like a candy cane. He sifted through, pulling out some of the smaller ones and setting them aside until he was satisfied, and then turned back to me. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for you to teach me how to do this!”

His dimple mocked me as he reached for a very small heart shaped cutter. “Just pick a shape, cut some holes, and fill them with candy.” he explained, as if it was that easy.

I watched him cut two hearts in one of the gingerbread man’s face like eyes before reaching for another and cutting two triangles at the top of the chest like a bowtie. Maybe it actually was that easy.

I picked up a bit bigger heart and punched a large hole in my cookie’s tummy and filled it with green apple candy before looking up at Harry for approval. His warm smile was all the encouragement I needed.

By the time I finished, my gingerbread man had blue raspberry eyes, heart shaped, red cherry lips, and a large, green apple heart on its chest. Harry gave his cookie green heart eyes, and rainbow buttons down the front, and his bowtie was filled with purple grape candy. Then at the last second, he added a heart to the left side of its chest -- smaller than my green one, but bigger than the ones he’d done for eyes -- and filled it with blue raspberry candy.

“It needed some love.” he claimed when I chuckled at him.

We cut and filled the rest of the cookies quickly using most of the rest of the candy and finished just in time to pull the second batch of cookies out of the oven and replace them with the gingerbread ones and the brownies.

Then I was put back to stirring. Harry made a big batch of icing and separated it into several smaller tupperwares before adding food coloring and passing them to me to stir. Then he put lids on and packed them up in a grocery bag along with sprinkles and other decorations.

“What are you doing?” I frowned, licking some pink icing off my fingers.

“These are for decorating.” he grinned. “I texted Lotts yesterday and told her not to worry about dessert. We’re going to surprise them with sugar cookies to decorate!”

The smile on his face melted my heart enough that I couldn’t even make fun of him for his enthusiasm, all I could do was smile. I knew I’d been staring for way too long when he blushed and dropped his gaze back to the bag he was packing. And I knew my face was much too soft, so to make up for it, I did the only thing I could think of. I dipped my finger into the blue icing bowl he hadn’t yet gotten to, and jammed it into his dimple.

“Hey!” he squawked, catching my hand before I could go back for more.

I was laughing, tugging on my arm, but he was stronger and he wouldn’t budge, pulling my whole body closer instead. “You know, the first day I met you,” I smirked up at him, ignoring the rational voice in my head that told me to _shut the fuck up,_ “I told Niall I wanted to lick your dimples?”

An embarrassingly loud, honking laugh exploded from Harry’s mouth and for once, he didn’t try to hide it. His eyes were bright and his cheeks were pink, and I couldn’t resist him anymore. I pressed up onto my toes and swiped my tongue through the mess of frosting on his cheek, causing him to release my hand with a squeal and shove me back.

“You’re disgusting, Lou.” he announced, swiping at his spit and frosting covered cheek with his hand, but the smile dimpling his cheek said otherwise.

“Come on,” I beamed, snapping a lid onto the bowl of blue and passing it to him. “We’ll be late.”

Harry boxed up all the sugar cookies before we left for Lottie’s flat, and we split the bags between us before making our way down to the car. It was too cold to walk, so we took the Salty Swallow, and Harry sang along with a Christmas station the whole way there. He had a smear of blue icing right where his cheek caved into a dimple when he smiled, but I didn’t feel the need to mention it.

Lottie’s flat looked like a tornado had hit a candy shop by the time we finished cookies. There was frosting on the walls and sprinkles in the carpet, and the lecture I got from Lottie was totally worth the handful of blue frosting in Harry’s hair.

 

Friday night, Niall, Ed and I met Liam, Zayn and Marcel outside the theater for Harry’s opening night. My stomach was in knots, nervous on Harry’s behalf. We got there early and claimed seats in the second row. I ended up between Niall and Zayn, and checked my phone to find we still had forty five minutes until curtain.

“Jesus, this is going to be a long night.” I groaned.

“Had to get a good seat, though, mate!” Zayn laughed. “I’m so excited.”

“You seen any of his plays before?” I asked.

“Of course.” he scoffed. “He’s my best mate.”

“Right.” I nodded. “How were they?”

“He was in _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang_ last year, and I had his song stuck in my head until about last week. Fuck, it’s back now.”

When he started humming the tune, I unlocked my phone again and texted Harry.

 

_Me: Does being friends with the Lion earn me a special request ?_

_Harry: What kind of request?_

_Me: Can you get this thing started in the next five minutes ? Im bricking it out here ._

_Harry: Why are YOU nervous?_

_Me: ITS SECONDHAND NERVES MUM SAYS I’M VERY EMPATHETIC !!!_

_Harry: I’ll put in a request. X_

_Me: How are you ?_

_Harry: I’m actually fine. Haha_

_Me: Fuck this where are you ?_

 

“I’m gonna run to the loo.” I mumbled, sliding out of my seat and stepping on Niall’s toe as I passed.

Harry directed me to a side door off the lobby and met me halfway down a long hallway. I stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of him. “What the fuck are you wearing?” I hissed, reaching out to tug on the front of his leather jacket.

“What do you mean?” he frowned, looking down at himself.

“You’re supposed to be a _Lion!_ ”

“He does have a life before Dorothy goes to Oz, you know.” he laughed.

“As a biker who’s never heard of a t-shirt? Harry those are _my_ nipples, you can’t go flaunting them to the entire student body!”

“ _Your_ nipples?” he smirked, covering his extras self-consciously.

“We’re the cutest couple, don’t act like you forgot.” I scoffed. “Tell me why you’re dressed like a gay biker.” I insisted, dropping my gaze to the long, leather-covered legs that led to those famous gold boots.

“Well, I’m supposed to look like a biker… I think the gay part came naturally.” he frowned, adjusting the ridiculous hat on his head.

“I didn’t realize Kansas had such a hoppin’ gay scene.” I deadpanned.

“You’ve really never seen a play here, have you?”

“Never had a reason to,” I shrugged.

“I am so excited!” he beamed.

“Great, can you get this thing started, then? Zayn is singing _Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,_ and Niall doesn’t love me now that he’s in love with Ed, and you’re supposed to be my partner in crime, but instead you’re off strutting round in these pants, and I’m the ultimate fifth wheel.”

“I’ll do my best, then.” he chuckled.

“Harry!” We turned to find another gay biker strutting towards us in painted-on light denim jeans and a leather vest with no shirt underneath.

“Noah, hey.” Harry nodded.

“James is ready for us, you coming?” he asked, ignoring me completely.

“Yep, be right there.” he nodded.

When Noah didn’t make a move to leave us, Harry turned back to me with an awkward shrug. “I should get back.”

“Tell them to hurry.” I whispered with a smirk.

“I’ll do my best.” he chuckled.

I pulled him into a hug and squeezed him tight. “Break a leg, yeah?” I mumbled into his neck before pressing a quick kiss there and pulling back.

“Thanks, love.” he beamed, giving my hand a squeeze. “See you after?” he asked.

“Course.” I scoffed.

With one last wink, he was off, jogging back down the hall with _Noah_.

 

Apparently I was the only one unprepared for the utter… _fiasco_ that was a James Corden Production. Niall had seen a play in first year for extra credit in one of his classes. Ed had seen one every year, and was a huge fan. And the other boys, obviously, had seen all of Harry’s plays. That being said, _none_ of them had thought to warn me.

Apparently this Corden bloke took classic scripts and put his own twist on them. So when Dorothy was abandoned by her boyfriend in a biker bar in a denim mini skirt and hunkered down for a tornado with a group of “unruly” (gay) bikers, I was the only person in the room who was confused.

She landed in a land of “munchkins” who were actually half a dozen grown, bearded men over six feet tall in rainbow tights who sang the Lollipop Guild song in deep baritones. Dorothy stole a pair of ruby red stilettos from the evil witch that the bar landed on, and skipped off, impressively steady on her four inch heels.

The Scarecrow was the third gay biker from the biker bar scene. That part, made sense. The fact that he was found in a weed field instead of a corn field, did not. The fact that he was stoned out of his mind… okay, that part made sense.

They sang a sloooow song about his lack of a brain while a fog machine filled the stage with a smoky haze before wandering off aimlessly down the yellow brick road on their way to Oz to inquire on a brain.

Then they stumbled across the Tin Man. Noah was the Tin Man. They found him sitting on the ground in the woods, crying over his lack of a heart. He had been crying so long he was rusted and stuck in place. Once they’d greased him up, he sang a song about giving away his heart to someone who broke it before Dorothy convinced him to come see the Wizard. Surely he could fix it.

Then they found the lion. Harry’s hair was teased and fluffed up huge and he was wearing another _fucking_ jumpsuit, this time in tan. He had ears and a tail and there were furry cuffs at his wrists and ankles and his face was painted like a feline.

When he didn’t sing the song we spent _hours_ rehearsing in my living room, I wasn’t surprised at this point. But when he sang _Little Lion Man_ by Mumford and Sons, I was blown away.

The same six large men who played munchkins in the beginning had transformed to flying monkeys who circled Dorothy and her travel companions while squawking like crows. It was actually terrifying.

When Dorothy returned home to Kansas, the gay bikers were passed out with bottles all around them, and and her boyfriend had crawled back for forgiveness, but after her big adventure, she was a much stronger, more independent woman and walked out of that bar on her own, ruby red slippers and all.

 _What the fuck!_ I mouthed to a beaming Harry as he, Noah and the Scarecrow boy bowed in the middle of the stage before backing out so Dorothy could take center stage for her bow.

His answering shrug and smirk had my stomach fluttering. Until Noah’s arm slung round his shoulder, pulling him in. He whispered something in Harry’s ear that caused him to grin and turn to speak to him, their faces just a breath apart. And _that_ caused my heart to drop.

I followed the others out to the the lobby on autopilot. We ran into Gemma, Mike, Anne and Robin and everybody was buzzing about Harry and the rest of the show, but I couldn’t concentrate on the conversation. My stomach was sour. I knew I couldn’t be with Harry, but seeing him with someone else, didn’t sit well. And as far as I knew, they were just friends. How would I feel when I saw him actually start to date someone? I couldn’t handle that. And that wasn’t fair.

When the cast began filing out of that side door Harry had directed me to earlier, I held my breath until he emerged. It came out in a rush when he appeared with Noah draped over his back, speaking directly into his ear. I was irrationally jealous of that boy, and I couldn’t help the way my hands curled into fists at my sides.

But I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I watched as Harry grinned, turned back to reply, but caught my eye through the crowd, instead. His dimple deepened, his eyes brightened, and he shrugged Noah off his back before dodging through the crowd toward us.

The others hadn’t noticed him yet, but I didn’t care. I took off round a group of girls chatting loudly about the flying monkeys and leapt into his arms the moment we met in the middle. He lifted me clear off my feet and I wrapped my legs round his hips as he spun in a circle.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was, but you were amazing.” I beamed.

He dropped me clumsily to my feet, holding onto my hips when I stumbled, even as he threw his head back on a laugh.

“Seriously, what the fuck was that?” I demanded.

“You were great, mate!” Niall exclaimed shoving me out of the way to bury his face in Harry’s neck.

Harry giggled into Niall’s overgrown blonde hair and thanked him just in time to be bombarded with hugs from Gemma and Anne. When he looked up from his mum’s beaming, dimpled face, he frowned bemusedly over her shoulder at his brother.

“You came.”

Marcel rolled his eyes. “Course I did.”

Harry beamed, pulling him in for a hug that lasted longer than any of the others, and I realized he had expected his brother not to come. He hadn’t asked about him when I saw him before the show, but I also hadn’t mentioned him. I _had_ however mentioned that I felt like a fifth wheel. He must’ve assumed Marcel hadn’t joined us tonight.

Suddenly the reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Harry had mentioned he wasn’t speaking to his brother, but he’d apparently been downplaying it. He didn’t expect him to come show his support on his biggest night. He’d been working for this for months, and he expected his best friend to sit it out.

And it was my fault.

 

We ended up at an all-night donut shop at nearly midnight, sitting around a table laughing about the gay bikers and flying monkeys, and munching on a box of various sprinkled monstrosities. Marcel was sat at the opposite end of the table from us, but I caught Harry glancing his way more than once.

We weren’t there more than half an hour before Harry’s head dropped back against the wall behind him. I nudged his arm and he rolled his head to smile sleepily at me.

“Tired?” I asked quietly enough not to draw attention away from the heated argument Zayn and Niall were having over the ironic size of the munchkins.

“Just kind of… drained.” he sighed. “Spent so long stressing and working up to this, and now that it’s here, I’ve got time to breathe and I just want to sleep.”

“You should go home.” I frowned. “Don’t let us guilt you into staying out all night when you’re dead on your feet.”

“I’m oka-a-ay.” he yawned.

Fortunately, Niall had probably half-heard our conversation and rolled his eyes, elbowing Harry’s other side. “You’re not.” Then he turned back to the rest of the table. “We should probably call it a night. Let this one catch up on sleep.”

There was a general murmur of agreement -- aside from Harry who protested weakly, even as we all began to gather up our rubbish.

“You’ve hardly slept in a month, Haz.” I scolded, “You’re overdue.”

“I’ve hardly seen anyone in a month, either.” he pouted.

“What time have you got to be back at the theater tomorrow?” Niall asked as we all got up.

“Four.”

“Right, then” he nodded, turning to the group at large, “Everyone, our place, noon. We’ll do lunch and Christmas movies. I’m leaving to go home for Christmas on Sunday, so I want you all there. No excuses.” Harry’s sleepy smile warmed my chest as everybody agreed.

Marcel, Liam and Zayn headed left when we exited the donut shop, while Harry, Niall, Ed and I turned right, and I fell into step beside Harry as we made the short walk home.

“When do you leave for Christmas?” He asked, eyes on his feet as he buried his hands in the pockets of his peacoat.

“Got a train ticket for Monday afternoon.”

“And you come back, when?” he frowned.

“A week and a few days.” I shrugged. “Haven’t decided yet, exactly. Niall’s coming back in time for New Year’s, so for sure before then.”

He nodded once, but didn’t reply.

“Jesus, Harold, I’m visiting me mum, I’m not dying!” I laughed.

His answering smile and the huff of laughter that turned white as it left his lips were just a little too hard to resist.

“I’ll miss you, too.” I admitted with a dramatic sigh as I looped my arm through his. “But if you think I won’t be texting you twenty-four-seven, you’re kidding yourself.”

“Send me photos of the kids?” he asked.

“Oh _that’s_ who you miss.” I scoffed.

“I mean,” He shrugged, shooting me a smirk. “You can send me photos of yourself, too.”

“You wish.” I narrowed my eyes at him, ignoring the way my neck and cheeks warmed at the idea.

We were approaching the door to Harry’s building and I wasn’t sure what his plan was. I didn’t want to assume he wanted me to come over if all he wanted was to sleep, but I didn’t want to say goodbye, either. He made the decision for me when he followed Niall and Ed right past the door without a moment’s hesitation. Like he’d never seen the place in his life.

We _had_ spent the past six fridays together, but that was different. Wasn’t it? It didn’t matter. I didn’t have to say goodbye.

Niall and Ed headed for the kitchen when we entered the flat, but when Harry let loose his biggest yawn of the night, I tugged him towards my bedroom and shouted a goodnight over my shoulder to the other lads. I steered Harry towards the bathroom before he had a chance to lie down and ordered him to get ready for bed.

He watched me take my contacts out and wash my face while he brushed his teeth and used the toilet, then I stepped out of the way to brush my teeth while he washed the thick layer of stage makeup off his face.

When I finished my wee, I found him curled up under my duvet, tapping away at his phone.

“Marcel texted me.” he explained as I crawled in beside him. “Said congratulations and all. He wants to hang out once the play’s done and I’ve caught up on sleep.”

“When’s the last time the two of you hung out properly?” I wondered. The last time I’d seen them in the same place was the morning after the Halloween party, but that might’ve been the last time I saw him with _anyone_.

“It’s been ages.” he sighed, reaching over me to place his phone next to mine on the nightstand. “I think… that day we went to the Anchor. When he was at my flat when we got back?”

“What did you two do?”

“Just… watched some _Friends_ reruns. Ate ice cream. He didn’t stay long. He asked what we were out doing and I said we got dinner. He didn’t say it, but I knew he was suspicious. Kind of put a damper on things.”

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked, rolling onto my side to face him. “You can use it as a Christmas gift for me, if you want.”

Harry frowned. “What is it?”

“Fix things with him? By the time we all get back from Christmas hols, can you just fix things with him? Whatever it takes.”

“Lou--”

“I know it’s my fault. Even if I didn’t do it on purpose, I came between you. I’m not planning on going anywhere, so you need to figure a way to fix things. You can’t live like this. Just promise me?”

“I promise.” he nodded. “I promise I’ll try to fix it.”

 

Harry slept in late the next morning. He got a full ten hours, by the time we actually drifted off. When he finally stumbled out of my bedroom and flopped down on the couch between Niall and me, he looked five years younger, even if he did have pillow creases criss crossing his cheeks.

“Before you ask, breakfast is happening.” I assured him. “Only it’s going to be lunch, and it’s going to be at noon, when everybody gets here.” He looked around the room absently and I smirked before taking pity on him. “It’s about eleven, now.”

“Jesus. Why didn’t you wake me up?” he frowned.

“You needed the rest.”

“But you’re leaving in a couple days. All of you!” he pouted.

“We’ll come back.” I laughed.

“Besides, everyone will be here in an hour.” Niall added. “And we can force them to stay until you have to head back.”

He sighed, but nodded in agreement before running a hand through his hair and shaking it out. “Think I might shower before they arrive…”

“Probably a good idea.” I wrinkled my nose teasingly.

“Alright, I’ll be back.” he nodded.

“See ya.” I waved as he got up. Except he didn’t head for the door, like I thought. He headed for my bedroom.

“Did he bring clothes?” Niall asked after a moment.

I frowned. “Don’t think so.”

When I heard the water turn off ten minutes later, I wandered into my bedroom to check on him. The bathroom door was open, so I shut the bedroom door to give him that bit of privacy before wandering a bit closer to the bathroom.

“Harry? Do you need some clothes?”

His head poked out round the edge of the doorframe, wet curls falling over his shoulder and dripping on the carpet. He smiled. “I planned on wearing these,” he nodded vaguely behind him, “But if you’re offering, I wouldn’t turn them down.”

“Alright, let’s see what we can find, then.” I nodded, heading for the closet.

I still had his grey hoodie from Halloween, but I hoped he didn’t remember. Instead, I focused on finding him some bottoms. I dug through the pile of cleanish clothes in the bottom of my closet until I found a pair of Adidas trackies that were a bit long on me and tugged them out of the pile.

“How’s these sou--” I cut off when I turned to find Harry standing naked in the middle of the room. Okay, he had a towel wrapped round his waist, but it sat so low on his hips, there was really no use.

“Perfect.” he smiled, taking them from me and tugging them on under his towel. Commando. They fell a bit short on him -- okay more than a bit -- and I could clearly see his Never Gonna Dance Again tattoos peeking out the bottom.

“Right, erm, d’you want a t-shirt, or a hoodie? Or both?” I stammered.

“Both? Please?”

I nodded and pointed him towards my t-shirt drawer, as I turned back to the closet. “Dig through there and see if you can find something that fits.”

I flipped through my hangers until I found a green Adidas hoodie that was a bit looser on me. There was an indignant squawk behind me as I pulled it off the hanger and I turned to find Harry holding a t-shirt in both hands.

“I’ve been looking for this for months! When did you steal it?” He flipped it round so I could see the front and my cheeks burned when he revealed the Rolling Stones t-shirt I’d _borrowed_ so long ago.

“You gave it to me.” I shrugged, feigning innocence.

“I would not have given you my favorite t-shirt.” he pouted.

“You had to, after you came all over mine.” I reminded him with a smirk.

He opened his mouth to argue some more, when the memory must have hit him. The day Marcel had invited me over to see the footage from the party, and the three of us had ended up hooking up on Marcel’s bedroom floor. His eyes widened, and his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink before he pressed his lips together, scrunching his nose in an attempt to hide a smile.

“Loaned it to you, maybe.” he conceded, pulling it over his head. “But you were supposed to _return_ it.”

“Should’ve mentioned the fine print.” I smirked. I tossed him my hoodie and turned for the door, making it halfway through before he spoke up again.

“Do you have any socks? My feet are frozen.”

I scoffed over my shoulder without pausing. “Good luck finding those.”

He pouted long enough that Niall finally gave in and lent him a pair of his, then had the audacity to whine when I shoved my feet under his arse for a bit of my own warmth.

Niall disappeared just before the other boys arrived and emerged from his bedroom with a sleepy Ed -- I’d almost forgotten he’d stayed over -- then pulled me along to the kitchen. Harry and Ed had strict orders not to leave the couch while Niall and I set to work on brunch.

And for once, I wasn’t completely useless. I chopped potatoes and scrambled eggs -- with a whisk! -- and stirred anything Niall passed my way, and nothing caught on fire, even a little. By the time we were done, the other boys had arrived, and eyed the food warily when Niall announced like a proud father that I’d helped make it.

“He’s not bad!” Niall laughed,

“I don’t know how I managed it, but I didn’t burn anything!” I beamed.

“You didn’t touch fire.” he frowned.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry waved him off, “He’s been practicing!”

“You’re kidding.” Marcel smirked.

“I’m basically a breakfast chef, these days.” I nodded, popping a fried potato into my mouth. “But, to be fair, I didn’t actually _cook_ any of this. Just chopped and whisked.”

“Impressive.” Harry winked.

I didn’t miss the way Marcel’s gaze caught on Harry’s Adidas ensemble as he passed by on his way to the kitchen, or his damp hair. But he didn’t say anything. He also noticed when Harry sat on the floor between my legs with his back against the front of the couch as we ate. But again, he stayed quiet.

I caught Liam and Zayn eyeing us once or twice, but they must’ve gotten sick of Harry’s silent treatment, because they didn’t mention it either.

Oddly enough, nobody batted an eye at Ed in Niall’s TaylorMade hoodie and shamrock pajamas. And when he and Harry insisted on doing dishes without Niall’s and my help, only Harry got a curious glance from the other boys.

Harry, who had passed out cold for ten hours the minute he laid down last night, while Ed got up to God knows what in the other room. Talk about a double standard.

We watched _A Christmas Story_ after that and Harry curled into my side, dropping his head to my shoulder. He pulled the blanket off the back of the couch at some point and made a foot burrito for both of us.

I woke up near the end of the movie and blinked in confusion for a moment before I realized I’d dozed off for about half the film. I shifted and winced when my back twinged with pain and it took me another moment to figure out why. Harry’s entire body weight was pressing me into the arm of the couch at an odd angle and I’d fallen asleep twisted to the side with his head on my chest.

Our fingers were threaded together on my lap, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

 

I spent the afternoon hanging out with Niall since he was leaving for Ireland the next day. I played him the song I’d been working on the last couple weeks and he loved it. If he had any thoughts on the inspiration behind it, he was smart enough to keep them to himself.  
We made dinner together and he complimented me on my improving kitchen skills before heading out to spend the evening with Ed. I put on a movie when he left and curled up on the couch with a cup of tea.

I was shaken awake a while later to find the DVD menu screen playing on repeat and Harry running round my flat like a madman.

“Wake up!” he called from the hallway. “Lou!”

“What are you doing?” I groaned, burying my face in the arm of the couch.

“Put these on! Come on!” A pair of shoes landed heavily in my lap and I sat up with a start.

“Harry! What the fuck?”

“Pleeease?” he begged, eyes shining happily.

“Alright, alright, Jesus, I’m coming.” I gave in. He was impossible to deny when he smiled like that.

The moment my shoes hit the carpet, Harry tugged me up off the couch and out the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked, practically running to keep up with his quick steps.

“Outside!” he exclaimed. “Hurry!”

The cold hit me right in the lungs the moment he opened the door and I whined pitifully, even as I allowed him to drag me outside. “Harryyy!”

“It’s snowing!” he announced, tugging me to a stop on the sidewalk.

“That’s what all this is about?” I grumbled.

“Let’s go to the park!” he grinned, completely ignoring my bad attitude.

“Why the hell would we do that?” I asked, tucking my hands into my sleeves and crossing my arms over my chest. I was in a hoodie and joggers, but it wasn’t enough for a walk round town in the snow.

“Because it’s _snowing!_ ” he reminded me.

“All the more reason to go back to bed.” I pouted. And then he turned that dazzling, dimpled smile on me and I just couldn’t resist him. My resolve melted like I wished this snow would, and I did my best to hide the smile tugging at my lips. “Fine, let’s go.” I sighed, nodding down the road.

Only it turned out, Excited Harry was even more of a monster than Regular Harry. He made me _run_ to the park, and I didn’t even have a say in the matter. He’d grabbed my hand and took off down the middle of the street like a madman. I didn’t have a choice but to run or be dragged behind him through the snow collecting under our feet.

White puffs billowed from our lips when we came to a stop on the snow covered grass at the park down the street. The very same park where Harry had once told me to date his brother instead of him.

I pushed that memory from my mind and turned back to the lunatic beside me who had his arms flung out to the sides as he spun in a circle attempting to collect snowflakes on his tongue.

“You’re an idiot.” I informed him, attempting to control my breathing and the burning in my chest from running in the cold.

“It’s snowing, Lou!” he beamed.

“It’s fookin freezing.” I countered fondly, wrapping my arms round myself.

“C’mere.” he grinned, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his thick, lined coat round us both. “Love the snow.” he hummed softly against my temple. I buried my face in his chest letting his breath warm me further and I wrapped my arms round his back inside his coat.

“Don’t mind it so much from here.” I admitted to his shirt.

“Then quit crying about it and dance with me.” he chuckled.

He began swaying slowly on the spot as he hummed a low tune and turned us in a slow circle. My cold fingers crawled slowly up the back of his t-shirt, but he didn’t falter, even when a chill ran down his spine. Just kept humming and spinning, hugging me to his chest for warmth. Definitely for warmth.

“Thanks.” I murmured after a while, turning my head to rest my cheek on his shoulder.

“For what, love?” he asked, just above a whisper.

“For waking me up for this.”

His arms tightened around me and his lips pressed to my forehead for a long beat before curving into a smile against my fringe. “Anytime.”

 

I met Lottie and Tommy outside my flat Sunday afternoon and we headed out for the theater together. We had promised not to have Sunday roast without Harry, and instead attend his last show together. It was showing two hours earlier than the previous nights’ shows since it was Sunday, and he had a cast party to attend afterwards. So even though I wouldn’t exactly get to spend any time with him, watching him perform again sounded like much more fun than spending the evening at Lottie’s flat pretending I wasn’t missing him.

“We should get him flowers!” Lottie exclaimed as we approached a vendor selling bouquets outside the entrance.

“He would probably love that, actually.” I chuckled, leading the way.

The vendor only had three kinds of flowers, so we chose one of each and paid quickly before heading inside. We found front row seats off to the side and Lotts dug a pen out of her purse so we could write on the cards stuck inside each bouquet.

“Oh look!” she held up her little card and pointed to the message printed on the back. “Pink carnations mean gratitude.” she giggled and scribbled something in her card before holding it up to show me.

“Thank you for gracing us with your talent. Love you, Lotts.” I read aloud.

“White carnations are for luck.” Tommy read from his before stealing Lottie’s pen and jotting down his own message.

“Who needs luck? Break a leg.” Lottie laughed as she read over his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.” Then she turned back to me. “What’s yours say?”

“Red carnations are for… deep love and affection.” I deadpanned. “Right, we’ll just save that for another day.” I mumbled stuffing the card into my back pocket.

I glanced up and found Lottie smirking at me as the lights went down.

“Shut up, it’s starting.” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and turning to face the stage.

“I didn’t say anything.” she smiled innocently.

 

Unlike the rest of my friends, I had warned Lottie and Tommy that it wasn’t a traditional take on _The Wizard of Oz_ , but it turned out even I was surprised.

The motivational story that I’d seen opening night of Dorothy coming to terms with her own independence -- picking up a band of misfits along the way who also needed some guidance -- was gone. This time, it was a story of a broken girl who needed to learn a lesson about independence before she could make it back home to Kansas. And instead of picking up a band of misfits along the way, each misfit showed up at at time when Dorothy was doubting herself. Her intelligence, her heart, her courage.

Instead of the Scarecrow, the Tin Man and the Lion singing their own songs when Dorothy found them, they sang a to _her._ Instead of Harry singing _Little Lion Man_ again, Harry sang a passionate rendition of _Lionheart_ by Demi Lovato and Dorothy and the others joined in for the last verse before they skipped off down the Yellow Brick Road. And before the battle with the Flying Monkeys, instead of _Eye of the Tiger,_ the four of them sang _Fight Song_ by Rachel Platten.

In the end, Dorothy made it back to the bar where she faced off with her ex-boyfriend again, and left him in the dust as she strode confidently out of the bar on her ruby red stilettos while the gay bikers cheered.

Basically, if I thought this play was insane two days ago, my second experience completely solidified that.

“Shit, you weren’t kidding.” Lottie laughed as Harry took a bow on stage. “That was just… ridiculous.”

“Harry Styles, everybody.” I agreed in my best announcer voice.

Harry’s eyes found us in the crowd as he and his Tin Man and Scarecrow friends backed out of Dorothy’s spotlight and his face turned to literal sunshine as he waved like an overexcited child.

We blew him kisses and waved our flowers in the air, cheering like mad. His eyes lit up when he saw three bouquets in the air and he clutched both hands over his heart mouthing _I love you_ over and over.

We met him in the lobby after the show and he scooped Lottie up in a big hug. Just before Tommy and I crowded in to join.

“You were amazing!” Lottie gushed.

“Again, what the fuck was that?” I asked.

“That was the last show.” Harry grinned, letting go of Lottie and accepting his flowers from each of us with an abundance of thank yous.

“When’s your cast party start?” I asked, “Do you have time to get food or something with us first?”

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to come to it with me?” he asked.

“Won’t that be weird?” I frowned. “We don’t want to crash your party. Plus we don’t even know anyone.”

“Not weird.” he shook his head. “Everybody brings people, it’s fine. And you know me, don’t you?” he added with a smirk.

I turned to my sister and lifted an eyebrow in question. “What do you think?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line for a moment before she shook her head. “I’m gonna have to pass. Gotta be up early tomorrow. You go though,” she added with a bright smile. “Have fun!”

“Yeah, Lou. Have fun!” Harry parroted.

“Fine!” I laughed. “But if it turns out you lied and I’m the only outsider in the place, I’m disowning you.”

“Noted.” he smirked.

“Well then, have fun! Travel safe, tomorrow.” she added with the same stern look she gave the twins when they were misbehaving. “I’m not driving you home if you miss your train!”

“Yes, mum.” I rolled my eyes.

With another round of hugs and congratulations and thank yous, Lottie and Tommy were off, and Harry was dragging me back to his dressing room to get his things together.

I was sitting on top of Harry’s dressing table listening to him chatter on and on about the show as he changed into his street clothes, when Noah entered the communal boys dressing room. His eyes raked over Harry’s naked back before he averted his gaze and made his way to his bag at the next station and began disrobing.

“You coming to the party, H?” he asked, interrupting Harry’s story about a flying monkey who had a sizeable wardrobe malfunction just before he was meant to be on stage.

“Oh, erm, yeah, of course” he nodded, pulling a black, long sleeved shirt on over his head. “Pass me my hat, Lou?” he asked, pointing to the ridiculous Gay Biker hat he’d worn on stage.

“You’re not actually wearing this in public, are you?” I scoffed, tossing it at his face. “You look ridiculous.”

Harry just beamed and pulled it onto his head before doing a sassy little hair flip.

“You’re awful.” I sighed.

“I think you look great, Harry.” Noah cut in, shooting a glare my way.

“Please don’t feed his ego, his head barely fits through the door as it is.” I smirked without taking my eyes off Harry.

“Thanks, Noah.” Harry chuckled with a little eyeroll. “You ready, Lou?”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” I nodded, hopping down off the table.

With a promise to see Noah at the party, Harry led me out of the dressing room and out a back exit to a small lot where the Salty Swallow was parked, waiting.

“Hello, old friend. Hangin’ in there, are we?” I asked the car as I climbed in on my side.

Harry threw his bag into the back seat and quirked an eyebrow at me. “So now she’s your _old friend,_ yeah?”

“Excuse me, Harold, I don’t think this conversation concerns you.” I replied haughtily.

“See if I invite _you_ to a party next time.” he grumbled, starting the car and cranking up the heat before pulling away.

The banter continued all the way back to his flat where he ditched his bag and flowers and car before walking me across campus to a pub I’d been to a few times.

“The party’s here?” I asked.

“There’s a lot of people.” he shrugged. “Corden paid to shut it down for a private party.”

“How posh.” I smirked.

“It’s a pub, Lou.” he rolled his eyes. “We’re here to get drunk and sing karaoke.”

“Don’t know where you’re from, but for me that’s a posh night.” I laughed.

We started the night snagging a table out of the way and sharing a basket of chips because Harry hadn’t eaten since lunch. He stole all the crispy ones and looked entirely too pleased with himself until I informed him I prefered the soft ones anyway. Then it was replaced with an awful smile that caused dimples deep enough to swim in.

“Stop making that face, you look ridiculous.” I grumbled, tossing a crispy chip at his big stupid face.

“You like soggy chips, Lou. That’s disgusting.” he beamed.

“Then quit looking so happy about it.” I chuckled finally giving in to the fond smile that had been tugging at my lips for far too long. “Take that one, it’s shit.” I added, flicking another crusty chip his way.

We went back and forth until I had a pile of soft, chewy chips on my side of the basket, and Harry had a stack of hard, crusty, half burned ones on his… and a smile the size of his big stupid head.

Once his belly was sufficiently full, we ordered pints. And more pints. And more.

People were singing -- theater types, it turned out, didn’t actually need to be drunk to do karaoke -- and people were dancing in the spaces between tables, pushing them out of the way to make more room.

“Don’t you want to go dance with your friends?” I asked Harry as we watched Dorothy twerk against the Wicked Witch of the West.

“Might be convinced to dance with you.” he smirked, lifting his glass to his lips.

“Might need a couple more drinks in me first.” I laughed.

“You don’t need more drinks,” Harry laughed. “You’re a great dancer!”

“I’m a drunk dancer, nothing great about it.” I corrected him.

“That’s not what Bowie said last time we went out.” he scoffed.

“Bowie doesn’t even remember most of that night.” I laughed. “We won a check that night, that we never saw again.”

Harry frowned. “Shit. It’s probably in my flat somewhere.”

“Better be, you owe me a date.”

The smile that curved those plump, pink lips had me slamming back the rest of my beer.

“Come on, let’s go pick a song to sing.” I ordered tugging him away from the bar.

Ten minutes later, we were on stage singing _My Heart Will Go On_ and Harry was making me fly like Jack and Rose on the Titanic. We actually got a very loud round of applause, and when we returned to the bar, shots were shoved into our hands.

Harry had been sucked into a conversation with the witches (good and wicked alike) when I felt someone slide up on my other side.

“I can’t believe Harry didn’t introduce me to his friend.” A familiar voice sighed behind me as I tried to rinse the tequila taste from my mouth with more beer. “Properly, I mean.”

I turned to find Noah squeezing in on my other side and I turned to face him.

“I’m Louis.” I explained, as if that answered all his questions.

“And where did Harry meet _Louis?_ ” he pressed.

“History. We sit next to each other in class and he tells me jokes.”

“He’s is a funny one, isn’t he?” he sighed wistfully.

“ _Hilarious._ ” I deadpanned.

“So you’re new friends, then!” he suddenly nodded in understanding. “That makes much more sense.”

I shrugged and spared a glance at Harry chatting animatedly with his friends. I guess we _had_ only known each other a few months. Seemed like we’d known each other ages, though. “Guess so, yeah?” I shrugged.

“Good, good. For a minute there, I worried he might upset a tradition!” Noah pressed a dramatic hand to his heart and sighed in relief.

“Tradition?” I arched an eyebrow.

“This is the third show we’ve done together.” Noah explained with a nod. “We always do a bit of a… _final bow_ , if you know what I mean. After the last show.” The lecherous smirk he wore turned my stomach.

“Right, right.” I nodded. “Can’t go upsetting tradition, can he?”

“Can’t believe I was worried,” he sighed before his play at casual shifted into something a bit darker. “You’re not even his type.”

My eyebrows shot up into my hair, but not for the reasons Noah must have imagined when he grinned triumphantly and sashayed off with his drink.

“Hey!” Harry beamed, rejoining me at the bar. “Having fun?”

“Just having a chat with Noah.” I shrugged.

“Oh God, what did he say?” he grimaced.

“Just making sure I knew you couldn’t upset tradition and miss your final bow, later.” I smirked.

Harry’s eyes widened and he began frantically shaking his head. “No! What? No! It’s not a -- _no,_ Lou. That’s not--”

“Relax, love.” I rolled my eyes.

He took a deep breath and shook his head. “We slept together once,” he explained desperately, “ _Two years ago,_ after the first play we did together. Then last year, my ex and I had just broken up and I wasn’t quite over it and I got drunk, so when Noah made a play at me, things happened. But then he invited me home with him, and I didn’t go. And I didn’t even speak to him again until I saw him at auditions. It’s not a _tradition,_ Lou. It just happened. And it’s not going to happen again.”

He didn’t need to justify his past to me. And he didn’t have to make me any promises for the future. I wasn’t his boyfriend. I was his… friend. His good friend, maybe. But certainly not more than that.

And, yet, his promise eased a small knot that had settled in my gut since Noah found us in the dressing room after the show. Since I’d met him at the first show, Friday night, if I’m honest. He was tall and handsome and clearly interested in Harry. I’d be lying if part of me wasn’t at least a _little_ jealous of him.

“Okay.” I nodded, instead of voicing any of the ridiculous thoughts that were flying through my head.

“I came to this party with you, I plan on leaving the same way.” He added earnestly.

“Then let’s enjoy it, yeah?” I smirked, tugging him out onto the dance floor.

 

A dozen songs, three more pints and a few shots later, Harry was pressed against me as everyone danced to that Katy Perry song Fizzy used to play over and over. Since explaining his history with Noah, he’d become even more clingy than usual, constantly touching some part of me, whether it was a hand on my hip at the bar, or his entire front pressed against me as we danced. Like he was now.

Not like I minded. That black, long-sleeved shirt he’d thrown on so casually after the show had turned out to be nearly see through in the low light of the pub. I’d been tracing his tattoos with my eyes -- and, _occasionally_ my fingers, I’ll admit -- all night, and now, as we moved together, my heart raced. The tequila and the sexy beat of the song and the heat of Harry’s body pressed against mine were getting to be too much. I needed a break. I needed to breathe.

“I’ll be right back!” I shouted into his ear over the thumping music.

He buried his face in my neck and pulled me closer, shaking his head petulantly. “Stay.” he pled.

“I need a wee!” I whined.

This caused him to erupt in those maniacal giggles he only seemed to possess when he was off his head and I was able to pry myself from his arms and take one step back. “Wait right here!” I ordered sternly. “Don’t get lost!”

The loud music muffled when the door closed behind me, but the relief was short lived. It swung open barely a second later, and I turned in time to watch Harry stumble through the door. He took two steps towards me before tripping over his own feet and I rushed forward to catch him before he hit the dirty floor.

“Oops.” he giggled, looping his arms around my waist to help his balance.

“Hi, love.” I sighed, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear with a fond little smile. “Thought I told you to wait for me?”

“Thought I told you to stay?” he murmured. I didn’t realize we were moving until my back hit the cold tile of the wall behind me.

“We can’t keep meeting like this.” I meant for it to come off as a joke, but the bitter truth of it rang too loudly in my voice.

His eyes searched mine for a long, heavy moment. One in which every reason we couldn’t be doing this flew through my mind. Marcel. Our friendship. Our friend circle. Our past. _Marcel._

I looked into those gorgeous, green eyes full of uncertainty, and for the first time in a long time, I just couldn’t care less about all the reasons why we _shouldn’t_ and instead focused on the one reason we should.

I pressed up onto my tiptoes and caught him by the back of the neck, pulling him in. He whined when our lips met, and I might’ve taken the piss if I hadn’t felt it all the way down to my fucking toes.

His hands slid down to my hips and his fingers dug in hard enough to leave little polka dotted bruises tomorrow. His leg slotted between mine, pressing us closer than we’d been in months. And it felt like months. Years, even. It felt like a lifetime since I’d had him like this. Soft and sensual and free. Honest.

His lips dropped to my neck and I groaned embarrassingly loudly as he sucked a bruise onto my collarbone. I might’ve been the one pressed against the wall, but I’d be damned if he got away with that.

I tightened my fist in his hair and tugged until he dropped his head back with a gasp, exposing the long column of his neck to me. It may have felt like it had been centuries since we’d been together, but I remembered him like I’d had him every day of my life. I remembered the spot at the hinge of his jaw that made his hips stutter forward against mine. I remembered how sensitive his nipples were, and how hard his abs were and my hand was only halfway up his shirt when a shout broke us apart.

“Get a room!” one of the Flying Monkeys laughed as he pushed past on his way to the urinal.

Harry sighed and dropped his head to my shoulder, panting like he’d run a marathon. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“What, you only lock the door when you’re worried it might be your brother catching us?” I smirked, sliding my hand out of his shirt and dropping it, instead, just above his back pocket.

He giggled into my neck and shook his head. “I wasn’t drunk last time!”

“You were smashed that night, love.” I scoffed, massaging his scalp with my fingertips where I’d tugged on his hair.

“Nah, wasn’t.” he exhaled against my shoulder. His lips feathered across my neck and my fingers dug into his hip in reply.

“Wanna get out of here?” I breathed.

He hummed against my neck sucking one more quick kiss just below my ear and nodded. “Please.”

We stumbled out of the bathroom and collided with a group of people, apologizing profusely to the girls as they ducked into the ladies room. Then I noticed Noah among the boys left behind.

“Harry,” he frowned, glancing back and forth between us. He stood up straighter when his eyes landed on our hands joined between us. “Thought you said you were just friends.” he asked airly.

Harry’s big hand tightened round mine and he giggled. “Never said _just._ ” Then he tugged me off towards the exit.

We made it about halfway home before I couldn’t hold back my questions anymore. “Why did you give me to Marcel if you wanted me?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyes bugging just a bit.

“It was you in the toilets at the pub.” It was the first time I’d acknowledged it out loud. When he didn’t reply, I pressed harder. “You pretended to be drunk when I came out so I wouldn’t know.”

“How did you figure it out, then?”

“The oops tattoo.” I sighed. “I’d convinced myself it had to have been Marcel in that bathroom because I’d never seen you so unsure of yourself. You were always such a cocky prick.”

Harry huffed a laugh and dropped his gaze to his feet.

“The first time he saw it, he asked what it meant. All the pieces kind of just fell together. I realized my gran was right.” He quirked his eyebrow in question and I continued. “I told you once, she used to tell me never to date an actor. That you never knew if they were being themselves or playing a part.”

“Lou, it’ wasn’t like that,” he pulled me to a stop and shook his head desperately. “I wasn’t trying to deceive you.”

“I know,” I assured him with a squeeze of his hand before continuing down the sidewalk. It was too cold to stop. “I just don’t understand why you did it. Why you gave up.”

He blushed, very like his brother. “I wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

“You’re in love with me.” I realized, suddenly. The knowledge didn’t slam into my chest like the life-altering fact that it was. It didn’t send my heart racing or my palms sweating. It didn’t shatter any illusions or shake any foundations. It felt like a ray of early morning sunshine creeping across the bed. It was gentle and comforting and… true.

“I know.” he sighed.

“I’ve been in love with you since you kissed me in the pub.”

“You mean, since I _blew_ you in the pub?” he scoffed.

“No.” I squeezed his hand again, hoping to convey just how wrong he was. “Since you kissed me, afterwards.”

“You didn’t even know it was me.”

“No. Because that was the first time you weren’t putting on an act. I just knew whoever it was, was finally being honest with me. And I loved that. I loved you.”

We reached his building and Harry held the door open for me before following me inside. We didn’t bother with getting ready for bed. Only stripped down to our pants and crawled under the duvet.

“Where does that leave us?” Harry asked as we curled into each other for warmth.

“Same place as before, I suppose.” I sighed.

“Does it have to?”

I groaned and buried my face in his chest. “Don’t make me be the bad guy, H!”

He pressed a firm kiss to the top of my head. “Sorry.” he whispered into my hair.

“You know we can’t be together, not after everything.” I sighed, lifting my head to look at him through the dark of his room. “Marcel would never speak to us again. You.”

“It’s not fair.” he frowned.

“I need you to fix things with Marcel, not make them worse.” I pled.

“I know you’re right,” he sighed, “I just wish you weren’t.”

I reached up and twisted one of his long curls round my index finger before asking, softly, “Did I mention how great you did tonight?”

“You mentioned how ridiculous my hat looked.” he pouted, taking the change of subject for what it was.

“Well I’m not taking that back.” I laughed, dropping my hand to his chest. “But I will tell you how proud I am, of you.” I added much too fondly. “You did so good, love.”

“Thank you.” His dimple popped and his eyes dropped bashfully and I couldn’t end the night without one more kiss.

I leaned across the short distance and pressed a soft kiss to that dimple that drove me wild before tucking my head under his chin. “Goodnight.” I whispered.

“Love you.” he breathed.

 

I woke up before Harry -- habit, by now, it seemed -- and pulled on my jeans before heading for the kitchen with my phone. Lottie had told me about some no-bake recipes she’d tried, so I did a bit of Googling and found a “Easy 3 Ingredient Fudge” recipe. Perfect.

I used the microwave to melt the chocolate and the whole process took about five minutes. I put the tray in the fridge to set and looked round for something to write a note on. I spotted a pen on the counter, but couldn’t find any paper anywhere. He was even out of kitchen roll.

I dug into my pocket and produced the card that had come with Harry’s flowers. I paused for a moment, before scribbling a note inside and propping it up in front of my fudge in the fridge.

Then I crawled back into bed and wrapped my arms round his broad back.

“Love, wake up.” I whispered tickling his tummy lightly.

He whined and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow.

“Love,” I grinned, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “I’ve gotta get going. Can’t go until you wake up and say goodbye.”

“Gonna sleep all day.” he mumbled.

“Fiiine...” I sighed dramatically. “If you don’t want to say goodbye, I guess I’ll just go then.” I moved like I was going to get up, only to be tackled to the mattress almost immediately.

“Stay.” Harry pouted. His eyes were rimmed with red and had dark circles under them. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. “Fuck everyone else. We’ll spend the next three weeks, right here pretending we can be together.”

“Aw, love.” I sighed, cupping his cheek.

“What time’s your train?” he asked, gaze dropping from mine.

“Eleven. I need to go home and pack still.”

“Can I come with you?” he asked hopefully. “I’ll help you pack, then drive you to the train station?”

“You don’t have to drive me.” I rolled my eyes.

“What if I want to?”

“Can’t stop you, can I?”

 

It took about three minutes before Harry fired me from packing, claiming he couldn’t let me go anywhere with a bag full of balled up clothes. So I was banished to the bed to watch while Harry folded and packed enough clothes to get me through the week.

Then we bundled up and headed out.

Harry chose a Christmas playlist in the car and sang every song that came on at the top of his lungs, until about a block from the train station.

“Do you have plans for your birthday?” he asked, turning Jingle Bells down.

I shrugged and shook my head. “Bit hard to make plans with people on Christmas Eve. Usually, the family comes over for dinner and then they come back for Christmas dinner the next day. Bit ridiculous, but mum likes to make sure I get a real birthday, even if it’s just us.”

“That’s sweet.” he smiled pulling into a parking spot on the street. “Listen, I, erm. I’ve got a gift for you. For your birthday.”

“Is it a song?” I grinned, turning to face him more fully.

“You get that _on_ your birthday, not a week early.” he smirked, reaching under his seat. “This, you can have now, if you want.”

He handed me a small, rectangular gift wrapped in Santa paper with a red bow on it.

“Wrapped it myself.” he added with a smug little smile.

“I get to open it now?” I beamed.

“You know, most people start with that whole ‘Aw, you didn’t have to get me anything’ speech.”

“You know me better than that.” I scoffed. “Do I get to open it now, or what?”

“No.” he laughed. “Open it on the train, if you get bored.”

I sighed and hugged the package to my chest. “Fine. Thanks for the ride.”

“What are you doing? I’m walking you to your platform, you know.” he rolled his eyes before climbing out of the car and slamming the door in my face.

He pulled my bag from the back and met me round my side of the car before taking my hand and leading me inside.

“I’m not going to tell you not to get me birthday presents, but you don’t have to carry my bag.” I pointed out with a fond smile.

“Will you tell your mum I say hi? And the kids? Please?” he asked, ignoring me completely.

“Of course, H.” I nodded.

“And text me? If you have time?”

“Harold.” I deadpanned. “I’m coming back. I promise.”

He came to a stop at my platform and he tugged me to face him. “I’m just… I’m gonna miss you.”

“You fucking sap.” I groaned pulling him into a hug. “Quit trying to make me cry. It’s not gonna work.”

“Liar.” he chuckled into my hair.

“I’m going to miss you too, love. And I’m going to text you everyday.”

“Better.” he breathed.

He let me go and handed over my bag with a reluctant smile. “Travel safe, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.” I chuckled. We stared at each other for a long moment before I muttered, “Fuck it.” And pulled him in for a quick kiss. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Happy birthday.” he grinned.

He stood on the platform and watched as I boarded my train and claimed a window seat. Then he waved like an absolute lunatic as the train pulled away.

I spent the first half hour of my ride texting Niall -- pretending I didn’t already miss Harry -- but when he eventually stopped writing back, I stared out the window for about a minute before remembering my gift sitting on the open seat next to me. _Open it on the train, if you get bored._

I tore the paper off to find a familiar paperback book. _The Wild Life and Mad Genius of Jagger._

I pulled out my phone and shot Harry a text.

 

_Me: Did you regift me Jagger ?_

_Harry: That didn’t take long._

_Me: Its a long ride !_

_Harry: READ then ;)_

_Me: You don’t know me at all do you ?_

_Harry: I now know that red carnations mean deep love and admiration._

 

Attached was a photo of the note I’d written inside his card:

**Since I didn’t help you with the cookies.  
** Did you know there is a whole world of no-bake desserts out there?  
Merry Christmas, H. 

 

Lottie would have never let me live it down if I’d read the entire flower meaning to her. She’d been smug enough about the _deep love and admiration_ part. If she’d seen the second part, I’d have died of embarrassment on the spot. Instead, I quoted it back to Harry. He’d already seen it, right?

 

_Louis: My heart aches for you._

_Harry: Such a sap. xxxxxxx_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My next chapter is obviously a Birthday/Christmas one, possibly New Years, depending on how long I ramble on about Christmas. I'm also going home for Christmas, so honestly I don't expect to have that posted before New Years, but I'll do my best. In the mean time, I hope you're happy with this chapter -- sad ending an all. Don't worry it's not over! xxx


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is formatted a bit differently. For the first time, we also have a bit of Harry POV! So I hope you enjoy that. 
> 
> Let's be honest. We knew this would take forever, but in my defense, I trashed and rewrote the whole thing like twice. So here it is. I think I have ONE more chapter, plus an epilogue. And they are both at least outlined so HOPEFULLY it won't take six more months for me to finish this thang.
> 
> PLEASE let me know what you think in the comments or on twitter @crescentmnshine or on tumblr crescentmoonshine
> 
> Thank you so much! XXX

**LOUIS**

It only took three days before I was ready to go home. And it wasn’t the stomach flu that Daisy had brought home from school, or the constant tantrums and nappie changes, or the smirks Fizzy had been shooting me every time I checked my phone.

It was Lottie.

She had stayed behind in London for a few more days because of her work schedule, but I hadn’t anticipated her replacing me so quickly. Wednesday night, she and Harry went to dinner together -- ON OUR DATE NIGHT -- and sent me photos of the whole thing. Selfies in Harry’s car, a photo of Tommy pouring their wine, each of their plates of pasta, and the giant slice of chocolate cake they shared for dessert.

I turned off my phone when they started sending me photos of them Christmas shopping together on Thursday afternoon, but that only provided about a minute of relief, because Fizzy saw me do it and tattled on me. Suddenly every mobile in the house was receiving photos of them running round SoHo together, and everybody felt the need to shove their phones in my face.

Hours later, I turned it back on and saved half a dozen of their photos to my phone. Harry called me that night apologizing for rubbing it in, but claiming he missed me and Lottie was the next best thing.

I spent Friday sending him photos of the kids. A selfie of me and the twins over breakfast, a shot of Doris in an AC/DC t-shirt giving him a thumbs up, another that Fizzy took of the girls and me cuddled up on the couch.

He sent me a million heart eye emojis before switching to crying emojis, eventually evolving to broken hearts.

 

_Harry: Miss you so much Lou._

_Me: Wish you could have come with me_

_Harry: That would have been lovely._

_Me: This place is a madhouse . You wouldnt last an hour_

 

That night, as I helped my mum clean up from dinner, she confronted me about the elephant in the house.

“So you and Harry, yeah?” she asked oh-so-casually.

“What do you mean, _me and Harry?”_ I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I mean, you’re together, aren’t you?” she frowned.

“You know I would have told you if I was seeing someone.”

“So then what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I shrugged. “We’re friends.”

“Lotts says you’re pretty close.” she trailed off with an innocent shrug of her own.

“Did Lotts say she went on a date with him the other night?”

“No, but I remember _you_ pouting quite a bit about it.”

“I did not _pout!”_ I exclaimed.

She chuckled as she dried her hands on a dish towel and reached for a box of tea. “So why aren’t you dating him?”

I busied myself filling the kettle and pulling down a couple of mugs before replying. “It’s complicated.”

“I’m not as dense as I look, if you wanna try explaining it to me.” she offered.

I rolled my eyes and turned to face her, leaning back on the counter. “Things were complicated between us before I started dating Marcel,” I began. “And then he told me to date Marcel, so I thought he didn’t want to be with me. It took me a few weeks to figure out that might not exactly be the case. Then things didn’t work out with Marcel, but he was so jealous of Harry, and there was so much… drama and whatever, between us, that it would ruin all our friendships if we got together after everything.”

“So the alternative is…” she trailed off expectantly.

“Friends?”

“Is that really what you are?” she arched an eyebrow.

“I don’t know, mum.” I sighed. “There’s something there, but there’s just too much in the way. He’s not even speaking to his brother right now and it’s all because of me.”

She frowned and shook her head sadly. “I told you to be careful, love.”

“I was!” I groaned. “I mean… Fuck it,” I muttered, ignoring her disapproving glare. “I hooked up with both of them in the beginning, a couple of times. And then Harry told me to choose Marcel. But he was just so great about it, you know? He told me he just wanted me to be happy and we stayed friends and it wasn’t weird, until Marcel started getting jealous. He couldn’t handle Harry and me being friends and kind of just sabotaged our relationship until I couldn’t take it anymore and I broke it off. If Harry and I got together after all that, it would just prove him right. Like salting the wound, or something.”

“But… he was right, wasn’t he?” she frowned. “He was worried you and Harry had feelings for each other, and you did. Right?”

“But--” I fish mouthed for a moment, completely at a loss. I hadn’t thought of it like that.

“You need to be sensitive to Marcel’s feelings, of course. But part of that is admitting that he was right. If you were a hundred percent in that relationship, he wouldn’t have had any reason to be jealous.”

“You’re saying I should have given up my friendship with Harry to make Marcel happy?” I asked a bit defensively. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t trust me not to cheat on him.”

“I’m not saying that at all.” she sighed. “Of course, he should trust you. I’m just saying, you’ve got to take responsibility for your part of the breakup, love. He didn’t give you the trust you needed, but you didn’t exactly give him the reason he needed.” I opened my mouth to argue some more, but she cut me off again. “I _know_ you didn’t cheat on him. But you had feelings for Harry, even if you didn’t act on them. Denying that isn’t making it untrue.”

She got up to pour herself a cup of tea, leaving my empty mug on the countertop before shuffling out of the kitchen without another word.

I took my tea to the living room where the kids were watching _Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer_ on telly. I curled up in the corner of the couch and Ernie crawled into my lap for a cuddle without taking his eyes off the screen.

I wrapped one arm round my little lad and pulled my phone out of my hoodie pocket with my other. It was Harry’s hoodie. The one I’d stolen at Halloween. Apparently he thought I might need it when he packed my bags for me. I had a message from him waiting for me. It was an artsy fartsy black and white photo of a Christmas tree lot.

 

_Me: Tree shopping ?_

 

He replied with another photo of Marcel’s car with a tree tied to the top and another message attached.

 

_Harry: Heading home now. The kid says hi._

_Me: Mine does too x_

 

I replied with a selfie of Ernie and me and got a hundred heart emojis in return.

 

_Harry: What are you boys up to?_

_Me: Watching rudolph on telly . Just had a weird chat with mum_

_Harry: Yeah?_

_Me: Little bit yeah_

_Harry: Do you want to talk about it?_

_Me: Maybe when youre alone ? If thats okay ..._

_Harry: Of course. Everything okay?_

_Me: Yeah think so . Hows things going with Marcel ?_

_Harry: Good, I think. We haven’t talked about everything yet, but we’re having fun, so maybe it’s not a lost cause._

_Me: Not a lost cause . Make it better_

_Harry: Yes mummy x_

 

Saturday morning, I found my mum in the kitchen with circles under her eyes nursing a cup of coffee. She only drank coffee when she _really_ needed it, so I knew she’d had a long night.

“Doris doing okay?” I frowned as I started some water in the kettle for tea.

“She hasn’t been sick since about three this morning, but Ernie was at four with a fever.” she sighed. “Looks like he’s next.”

I sighed and sat down next to her. Daisy had gotten over her stomach bug in twenty four hours, but she’d passed it to Phoebe next. And Doris after that.

Fizzy and I had been helping out around the house as much as we could, but we’d also been sanitising _everything_ in the hopes of stopping the bug from spreading any further than it already had. We’d kept Ernie and Doris separated all day while she’d been sick, but apparently it hadn’t helped.

“And Lottie’s due home today, too.” I sighed. “She doesn’t have time to get sick. She’s only got three days off from work. We’ve got to get this contained.”

“If you keep the big kids occupied, I can handle the sick babies.” she smiled sleepily.

“Mum, you haven’t slept, I know it.” I frowned. “You need a nap.”

“I’ll nap when Dan gets home from work.” she promised. “For now I’ve got to finish this and head back up to change the sheets in the twins room.”

“Don’t want to hear about it.” I grimaced. “Call if you need anything, yeah?”

“Thanks, love.” she smiled. “Make sure Fizz gets Lottie’s bed ready for her before she arrives, yeah?” She added, getting to her feet and heading off for the laundry room.

“Sure, mum.” I nodded.

 

It was about noon when my mum brought Ernie downstairs. “I’m admitting defeat. If I don’t get a nap soon, I’m going to sleep through your birthday.” she sighed. “I just need you to keep him for an hour or so, please? Doris has finally fallen asleep, but I can’t risk Ernie waking her up right now. His fever hasn’t broken and he’s fussy. He just needs lots of fluids and love right now. And I need--”

“A nap.” I finished for her, taking Ernie easily. He shivered and curled into my chest with a sniff. “We’ll be okay on our own, won’t we, lad?”

“Thank you, love. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Go to bed, mum.” I rolled my eyes fondly.

She pressed a kiss to both our foreheads before shuffling off for the stairs, leaving Ernie to watch telly with Fizzy and me. The girls had gone to a Christmas party at one of their friends’ houses, now that they’d passed on the plague, and Lottie was planning on picking them up later as a surprise.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes before Thomas the Train wasn’t enough to distract Ernie from his discomfort, and when the dogs came running in from the garden, trailing muddy footprints all over the house, he had a full blown meltdown.

“Alright, I’m going to take the dogs for a quick walk and burn off some energy.” Fizz suggested. “You need anything?”

“Nah, I’ll just get him some club soda for his tummy.” I shook my head. “You go, I’ve got this.”

I propped Ernie on my hip, swaying slightly as I dug through the fridge for the bottle of club soda mum had sent me out for my second night home. Ernie was bawling his eyes out on my shoulder as I poured him a little in a Peppa Pig cup, and I shushed him softly as best I could while I dug some crackers out of the cupboard and turned just in time to see Lottie’s car pull into the drive outside.

“Achoo...” Ernie whimpered in my arms.

“I know, lad, it hurts, yeah?”

He groaned in agreement as I set him down on the edge of the countertop and handed him a cracker.

“Honey, I’m home!” Lottie sang from the front door.

Then it happened. Ernie’s eyes widened and his cheeks puffed outward for a moment, before he erupted. I stepped back just in time to miss the mess, then reached for him between heaves. We made it halfway across the kitchen before his second wave hit and I was covered from shoulder to belly button in sick.

“Oh, God.” I groaned, “It’s okay, lad, come on.” I added when he began crying like mad.

It wasn’t the first time I’d been hit, but I’d managed to avoid it all week, and I was hoping I only had twenty four more hours to get through before I was in the clear.

“Lou?” Lottie called as she came round the corner into the kitchen.

I groaned and turned for the sink only to step in the puddle of sick on the tile and slip. I was on my way down when two long arms reached out and caught Ernie at the last second, spinning him towards the sink just in time for him to make it mostly into the basin.

“Aw, get it all out, lad.” Harry sighed, rubbing his back as he retched.

“Harry!” I groaned from the floor, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Happy Birthday?” he shrugged over his shoulder.

Before I could question him further, Lottie was joining me on the floor with an armful of towels. “Here,” she hissed, tossing one my way. “Go get cleaned up, I got this.”

“You sure you want to get in on this?” I scoffed, gesturing at the mess down my front.

“Go,” she nodded, “I got a flu shot last week, I’m immune!”

Ernie seemed to have a break in retching and collapsed into a fit of pitiful tears against Harry’s chest, but before I could make a move, Lottie was reaching for him.

“Hey, little lad! Look who’s home!” she cooed softly.

“Turn him round, he’s only just started.” I advised before climbing to my feet.

“I got this, Lou. Go.” she promised.

Glad to get out of my sick covered hoodie, I accepted her offer and backed out of the room, heading straight for the laundry room.

“Come ‘ere.”

I turned round just as Harry reached for the zip of my hoodie and carefully slid it off my shoulders.

“You’re going to get sick.” I sighed softly.

“Think you need to lose the joggers, too.” he frowned, ignoring my warning as he inspected the rest of my outfit.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I breathed.

“Missed you.” He shrugged, rolling my hoodie up into a ball, sick side in. I took it from him, tossing it absently into the laundry without breaking eye contact.

“I want to hug you so bad, but I’ve just been contaminated, and I need to sanitise first.” I rambled, wringing my hands together.

“Lottie banned me from touching anything.” he chuckled. “She says I’m not allowed to get sick or all our plans were for nothing...” he took a moment to examine his hands before smirking up at me. “But I think I’ve gotten a bit contaminated too, by now.”

“What are your plans?” I asked breathlessly.

His shoulder lifted in a casual shrug. “It’s a surprise.”

I reached for him before snatching my hands back and shaking my head. “Come with me?”

“Anywhere.” he beamed.

I shed my joggers, tossing them into the laundry as well before leading Harry back through the kitchen. There was a pile of bags just inside the front door -- and a guitar leaning against it. “Get your things and don’t touch anything, I haven’t sanitized anything since breakfast.”

“Yes, mummy.” he chuckled reaching for his bags.

“And quit calling me mummy, creep.” I added with a smirk.

I sprinted up the stairs to the second floor, then up again to the attic.

“Is this your room?” Harry asked, dropping his bag on the double bed in the middle before turning in a slow circle to grin at the Barbie dream house in the corner and the dump truck full of blocks backed up to the toy box.

“Only since Ernie and Doris were born and took over my old one.” I chuckled. “Mostly it’s their playroom.”

“I like your Spiderman comforter.” he smirked.

I rolled my eyes as I backed towards the bathroom in the opposite corner. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

I took the world’s fastest shower, scrubbing myself head to toe twice, before emerging to find Harry scrubbing his hands in the sink. He turned to reach for a towel, and without even thinking about it, I threw my arms round him, burying my face in his chest and inhaling deeply.

“Shit, I missed you.” I sighed.

His strong arms wrapped securely round my bare back and squeezed me tighter. “Happy birthday, love.”

I tipped my chin to rest in the middle of his chest as I frowned up at him. “That’s why you came?”

“What did you think I was doing here?” he asked as a rumble of laughter rolled beneath me.

“I was in the middle of a frantic situation when you appeared out of nowhere, I didn’t really have time to think of anything.” I reminded him. “Speaking of which, everyone in this house has the plague, you definitely shouldn’t be here. You should actually probably shower, since you just came in way too close of contact with that little bucket of germs down there.”

“I knew that before I came.” He averted his eyes as I pulled on a pair of fresh pants, before following me back into the bedroom. “Lottie and I planned this after you left on Monday, and spoke with your mum about it to make sure it was okay. Then when Daisy got sick, she called to warn us, in case we changed our minds. She’s called me every day this week, warning me each time someone else caught the bug. She promised she was keeping you as far away as possible, though.”

“She hasn’t let us help out all week.” I sighed, flopping back on the bed. “She’s running herself dry, but she insists she and Dan have got it under control. So Fizz and I have just been having Christmas film marathons all week and sanitising every surface ten times daily.”

Harry took a seat next to me on the bed and leaned down on one elbow with a hopeful smile. “Think you could sneak away for one night?”

“For what?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

He reached out to play with my fingers and gave me a shy shrug. “It’s your birthday.”

“Tomorrow’s my birthday.” I corrected him.

“Well my train leaves at five o’clock tomorrow, so we’ve got to start a bit early.”

“You’re staying the night?” I knew I should be embarrassed by the fond smile tugging at my lips, but I couldn’t help it.

“Is that okay?” he asked with an uncertain frown.

“Look at my face, Harold, do you honestly think I’m trying to get rid of you?” I deadpanned.

There was a knock at the door before my mum stuck her head in. “Harry!” she beamed, “So great to see you.”

Harry scrambled off the bed to meet her halfway across the room for a hug and I caught my mum arching an eyebrow at my attire over his shoulder.

“Ernie got sick on me,” I explained. “I had to scrub the plague away.”

She groaned as she pulled away from Harry. “I’m so sorry, love. I tried to keep them away from you.”

“It’s not a big deal, mum. Lottie’s got him now.”

“Thank you so much.” she sighed. “I’m up now, I’ve got it under control. You go have a nice time with Harry, yeah?”

“Are you sure?” Harry frowned. “We can stay and help out if you need us.”

My mum dropped her hands on her hips and fixed Harry with the very same stare that had me confessing all my sins as a child. “Harry Styles, I have seven children. I can handle a stomach bug.”

“She also has several other helping hands down there. You’re not getting anywhere near those sick babies tonight.” I laughed.

“You’ve got plans, love. I won’t let my plagued babies get in the way of that. They’ll be all better by tomorrow.”

“Hopefully.” I smirked.

“Go.” She ordered. “Have fun. And put some bloody clothes on!” she added to me, before backing out of the room.

“I don’t mind you like this.” Harry murmured with a smirk, dropping back down onto the bed beside me.

“Perv.” I blushed.

 

“So where are you taking me?” I asked as we squeezed into Lottie’s little car -- after I’d convinced him to shower the plague germs off himself.

“You tell me,” he chuckled as he started the car and cranked up the heat. “This is your town, show me around.”

“That was the big birthday adventure you had planned for me?” I deadpanned, “A tour of Doncaster, hosted by _me?_ ”

“I’ve heard the Donny Dome is the only split level ice rink in the UK.” he shrugged.

“I’m the one who told you that!” I laughed.

“Maybe once or twice.” he smirked. “Or we could get food. See a film. It’s your birthday, we can do whatever you want.”

“I’ve never really had a normal birthday,” I admitted with a frown. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Well let’s start easy, then.” he chuckled. “Where’s your favorite place to eat round here?”

“The chippy.” I answered immediately.

“Lead the way.” he beamed.

 

We sat across from each other in the otherwise empty chippy with baskets of fish and chips, and immediately dumped all our chips on some paper in the middle of the table and began separating them into piles of soft and crispy ones.

As we ate, he filled me in on life back in London.

“Going back to work at normal hours has been nice. I worked with Liam yesterday, and I felt like I haven’t hung out with him in about a decade. So I went and had tea with him and Zayn after work.”

“How are they?” I asked. “Did they grill you about our secret relationship?”

Harry chuckled and shook his head. “It was weird, they didn’t mention you at all. Well--” he frowned, “--that’s not entirely true. Zayn was showing me his portfolio from this term, and he had a few drawings of you in there. From that day he grilled you.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes, simultaneously remembering that day and wishing Harry hadn’t seen those drawings.

“They were good.” he grinned. “Then they spent about ten minutes talking about how gorgeous you are and Zayn guilted Liam about screwing up any future projects where he might want to ask you to model for him.”

“I only agreed to that one because he lured me to his flat under false pretenses.” I grumbled.

“But you should see it, Lou!” he whined. “They look amazing, and they’re barely sketches.”

“I’m going to need some major arse kissing before I agree to sit for him again. And some warmer weather.” I added as an afterthought.

Harry’s nose scrunched, and I rolled my eyes, kicking him under the table.

“Perv.”

 

We headed to the Dome after dinner and rented skates before hobbling towards the rink.

“Are you good at this?” Harry asked as we stepped carefully onto the ice.

“Used to be. Haven’t been in awhile.” I chuckled.

“I don’t think I’ve been since I was about ten.” Harry admitted with a nervous laugh. “I’m probably going to kill myself.”

“Come on, I’ll hold your hand.” I grinned.

It took less than a full lap for Harry to realize that I had completely undersold my skating abilities, and it was no surprise that he had definitely oversold his.

“You’re like a giraffe on a tightrope.” I laughed as he flailed, grabbing onto the barrier for support.

“And here you are, Apollo fucking Ono.” he scoffed.

“The kids love skating.” I shrugged, swooping over in front of him and spinning round to skate backwards, extending both hands between us. “Come on, love. I’ve got you.”

His cheeks tinged pink as I led him round the outer edge of the rink and he squeezed my hands tighter every time he hit a rut in the ice, but his smile was beautiful.

“What do you usually do for your birthday?” I asked as a couple of eight year olds in sparkles twirled past us.

“Well, I share it with my brother,” he chuckled, “So I guess I’ve never had that normal, center of attention birthday, either. But,” he shrugged, “I don’t mind it, really. We always had big parties when we were kids, with all our friends from school. Now that we’re older, we usually just go out to a pub or something. My mum still makes two cakes though, whatever we want.”

“She’s sweet.” I smiled fondly.

“Your mum is sweet.” He beamed. “I can’t believe how much she’s gone through this week. She keeps playing it up like it’s not a big deal, but it is. She’s like superwoman.”

My heart warmed at his words. “That’s what I’ve always said.”

“You were pretty impressive too, you know.” he added softly.

“All I did was get puked on.” I rolled my eyes. “Not my brightest moment.”

“You handled it amazingly, though.” He continued earnestly.

“I fell on my arse and would have broken ‘is leg if you hadn’t swooped in out of nowhere like a fucking superhero.”

“At your serv--aghh!” Harry’s cocky smirk was wiped form his face in an instant as his feet flew out from under him, taking us both to the ice in a pile of limbs.

“Harolllddd!” I groaned.

“I told you I’d fall!” he laughed, sprawled on his back beside me. “I just wanted to impress you!”

“Aw, love, that’s so pathetic.” I giggled, rolling over to face him.

He pouted and turned onto his side with a wince. “Think I broke my ass.”

“I love you.” I sighed. It took me a moment to realize I’d even said it out loud, but I didn’t regret it. It was the truth.

Harry’s eyes shined brighter than I’d ever seen them and his frozen hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb stoking my cheekbone softly. Then he leaned in and kissed me so sweetly. I’d only ever had one other kiss like it in my life. And it was three months ago in a dark pub bathroom, pressed back against a wet countertop.

“I’m freezing.” I chuckled against his lips.

He let out a loud honk of laughter and sat up, pushing to his feet with a little wobble before reaching out a hand to help me. “Let’s get out of here.” he grinned.

We limped off towards the benches on the side and plopped down, panting slightly as we watched the miniature figure skaters show us up. “I can’t believe you broke your ass.” I giggled, dropping my head to his shoulder.

“Looks like both of us needs some arse kissing, eh?” I didn’t have to look to know exactly how ridiculous his smile was.

“I hate you.” I grinned.

“I love you.” he replied softly, just before his lips pressed to my temple.

I knew I should pull away. I knew it was unfair to both of us to pretend this could be anything more. But my body and my mind were not on the same page.

“You’re shivering.” he murmured wrapping an arm round me. “Let’s get some tea. Warm up a bit, yeah?”

I took him to my favorite cafe and we settled at a table, hands wrapped round our steaming cups of tea.

“I haven’t been here in ages,” I commented, looking round. “It hasn’t changed at all.”

“It’s cozy.” Harry smiled. “I like it.”

“I had to take about a year off when I was seventeen.” I chuckled. “I had a girlfriend who worked here, and we came after a movie one night for a cuppa. We saw that _G.I. Joe_ movie, with Channing Tatum and we both hated it. She was going on and on about how the only reason it wasn’t a complete waste, was because of him. And all at once, I kind of just, got sick of pretending. I told her I’m gay and broke up with her. She freaked out and it caused a big scene and I avoided her for about a year.”

“Aw, you were a heartbreaker.” Harry cooed with a fake pout.

“You never broke anyone’s heart?” I chuckled. “I find that hard to believe.”

“First of all, _rude,_ ” he scoffed haughtily. “And secondly, I never made a girl cry over me. Never dated one, actually. I didn’t come out until I was sixteen, but I didn’t date anyone before that. My first boyfriend was Year 12. I lost my virginity to him and then he cheated on me. My second boyfriend ghosted me after about a month. We never even broke up. Technically I’ve been cheating on him since I was eighteen. After that I wandered a bit, dated a bit more casually. Then I met Nathan. We dated for about a year, and for a while I thought it would last, but he didn’t feel the same.” he finished with a shrug.

“So the first time you ever dumped someone, it was me?”

“I didn’t dump you!” he exclaimed incredulously. “We weren’t even dating!”

“Sure felt like a breakup.” I pouted teasingly.

“Yeah?” he laughed, “Did you go home and cry over me?”

I opened my mouth to fire back with a cheeky response, but it died on my lips when I remembered that night.

“Shit, you did?” he breathed after a long pause.

“I mean…” I shrugged and dropped my gaze to the steam rising from my tea.

Harry groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “I’m such a prick.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I forced a chuckle and spun my cup on the tabletop. “It all worked out, in the end.”

“No it didn’t.” he emerged from his hands only to frown at me. “I fucked up everything.”

“I don’t think you were entirely to blame for where we ended up, Haz.”

“I was though.” he argued. “I didn’t start it, but once we were there, I took the cowards way out, instead of having the balls to tell you I was in love with you. Now I’m stuck here pretending we’re friends instead of taking you out on a romantic date for your birthday!”

“I don’t know, this was pretty romantic until you started ranting.” I joked, trying to pull him back from the edge.

His eyes caught mine with a miserable frown creasing his brow and he reached out to clutch my hand across the table. He sounded choked when he wheezed, “I broke your heart.”

“You weren’t the first.” I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel.

”LOUIS!” he groaned.

I sighed, taking pity on him, and threaded my fingers through his. “You were the first person to ever put it back together again, though.”

He perked up the tiniest bit, at that. “Yeah?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah. You stuck around through everything with Marcel, and you became my best friend practically overnight.” Harry’s brow creased at that, and I continued before he could argue. “And you slept in my bed every night, pressing close enough to remind me how bad I wanted you, but far enough to remind me of everything I’d lost.”

“But you didn’t lose me.”

I tugged on his hand, pulling him closer over the table with little regard for the hot drinks between us. And I kissed him the way he kissed me on the ice. And in the pub toilet all those months ago.

With love.

 

“What was that talk you had the other day?” Harry asked on our way home. “With your mum? The weird one?”

I groaned and dropped my head to the seat behind me. “A guilt trip, mostly.”

“About what?” he frowned.

“You.” I shook my head and sat up, turning in my seat to face him more fully. “She says Marcel’s jealousy was valid because I didn’t give him any reason to trust me.”

“You didn’t cheat on him. We didn’t do anything inappropriate while the two of you were together. Even since then, we’ve hardly--”

“Yeah.” I nodded, cutting him off before he got worked up again. “But then I thought about what she said. She said if I was a hundred percent in the relationship, he wouldn’t have a reason to be jealous. But I wasn’t, was I?”

Harry rolled to a stop at a light and frowned at me under the light of a streetlamp.

“I had feelings for you, even if I didn’t act on them.”

“And I had feelings for you.” he sighed in resignation.

“We may not have done anything, but you said it yourself earlier tonight. We’re just pretending we’re friends when in reality, that’s not what either of us wants.”

“Moral of the story, we were assholes and we owe him an apology.” Harry sighed as the light turned green.

“Basically.” I nodded.

“Your mum hates me, doesn’t she?” he asked miserably.

“Quite the opposite actually,” I chuckled. “I told her we can’t be together after everything that’s happened, and she basically told me we were being idiots. I told her if we got together now, it would just prove him right, and she said we was right. Like, we’ve already hurt him, at his point. We’re only hurting ourselves by denying it. And insulting him, really, by pretending it was all in his head.”

“So what you’re saying is, she thinks we should be together?” he asked with a hopeful smile.

“Apparently.” I grinned.

“And what do you think?” he pressed.

I reached out to run my thumb over his dimple and replied softly, “I think you’re pretty.”

 

Somehow throughout the night, we'd reached an unspoken agreement that kissing was no longer against the rules. I kissed his blushing cheek when he spilled his drink at the chippy. And he kissed me after we fell on the ice. And I kissed him at the tea shop. And he kissed me in my mums driveway before we got out of the car.

And as we lay cuddled in my bed at the end of the night, all I wanted was to kiss him again.

"Tonight was amazing, Harry. Thank you."

I pressed a kiss to his smiling lips only to be interrupted when he started talking. "If you think that's all I have planned, you're severely underestimating me, Tomlinson."

He leaned back in for another kiss and I ran my fingers down his spine just as our lips met. He snorted in my face, arching into me as he dissolved into giggles and I smiled against his lips, continuing on as if I hadn't noticed the fit he was having.

His knee slipped between mine, and suddenly we were pressed closer than we should be. I was half hard, just from the sound of his laugh and the warmth of his body and I knew he could feel me pressed against his hip. It wasn’t the first time one of us had poked the other during our sleepovers, but it was the first time we were snogging when it had happened.

“Fuck, Lou.” he sighed almost dejectedly. But he didn’t move away. Just wrapped his long arms more securely around me and nibbled on my lower lip until it was swollen and raw before letting it go with a small, wet pop.

I grunted and my hips jerked against his thigh. He wasn’t exactly helping my situation, we he? My fingers threaded into his hair and he let out a small whimper. "Remember that thing you said, about pretending we can be together?"

"No." he breathed.

"Back at your flat,” I reminded him breathlessly, “About just staying in bed for the next three weeks."

"I remember,” he murmured, pulling back to meet my eyes. “I'm saying no, I won't pretend with you. Not for a night, not for three weeks."

I felt my face fall and immediately regretted suggesting it. Until he continued.

"Your mum was right. And I'm gonna fix this. We're going to be together for real."

My heart swelled, but I was still wary. "How are you going to fix it?"

"By telling the truth. I'm going to have an honest chat with my brother. Tell him I'm in love with you and I can't stay away anymore. Not for him, or anyone else."

"He's not going to like that."

"He's not going to have a choice." He cupped my cheek with one big hand and continued softly. "I'm done staying away from you, Lou."

Then he pulled me in and kissed me with purpose. He kissed me until my palms were sweating and my legs were shaking and I couldn't tell which way was up and which way was down.

But I had to find out. I had to get Harry on his back. I had to see him wide open and honest -- blooming like the beautiful flower he is.

I flung my body to the side, praying that gravity would take me where I needed to go, and I could have cried when I landed flat on Harry's broad chest. My hands buried in his hair and I pulled myself up to eye level with him. "You're beautiful, Harry." I breathed.

He bit his lower lip in a failed attempt to muffle a small whine that went straight to my cock. “Do you have a condom?” he breathed as I sucked a mark over one of the birds on his chest.

I paused to look up at him with an incredulous expression on my face, I’m sure. “Are you fucking joking?” I laughed, “Why would I have brought condoms with me when I came home for Christmas? I didn’t know you were coming. And if I had, I _never_ would have planned for--”

“Shut up, Jesus!” he groaned miserably, throwing both hands up to cover his face. “Fuck.”

“You’re the one who planned a romantic birthday date for me,” I pointed out. “That should have been _your_ responsibility.”

“I didn’t plan _this!”_ he exclaimed, throwing his arms out to the sides.

I shook my head slowly and smirked down at him. “Yes, you did.”

“I changed my mind, I don’t want to have sex with you, anyways. You’re awful and I’m mad at you.” he pouted, pulling his arms back in to cross over his chest.

“You know, you’re not the only one who’s mad… I’ve been mad at you for ages, actually.” I traced his bottom lip with my thumb until he caught it between his teeth. He sucked and nibbled at the pad of my thumb for a moment before releasing it.

“Why?” he frowned.

“Ever since the night at the pub. In the bathroom.” My hips ground down into his at the memory.

Harry smirked and let his hands loop around to palm my bum. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I shot him a glare that definitely didn’t convince anybody. “That was hands down, the best blow job of my life.”

“I’m _so sorry.”_ he rolled his eyes, fingertips digging into the flesh of my arse.

I dropped my head toward his, but pulled back the second he came in for a kiss, whispering against his swollen lips, “You didn’t let me return the favor.”

There was nothing in the world that could muffle the whine that escaped his lips as I ducked down and sucked another bruise beneath his ear. His hips arched up, pressing us together intimately, and I groaned against the tender skin of his neck before continuing lower.

I kissed a trail down his neck and chest, then lathed my tongue across his left nipple, where I was almost knocked off of him when he curled in on himself, giggling like mad.

“You’re completely ruining the mood, love.” I chuckled against his sternum as he covered himself with his hands, as best he could.

“Tickles!” he squealed, heels sliding on the sheets.

Undeterred by his ridiculous, honking laugh -- and, okay, maybe turned on by it, too -- I nuzzled my nose into his tummy and dipped my tongue into his belly button before blowing a raspberry to the soft skin just below. I dropped my chin above the elastic band on his pants and beamed up at him as he panted with laughter.

When he finally calmed enough to look down at me, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, I sighed and pressed a soft kiss to the laurel tattooed over his left hip.

His long fingers pushed my fringe up off my forehead before fisting in my hair with a gasp as I dipped to trace my nose along the hard line of his cock through a layer of cotton.

“Lou…”

“Hmm?” I hummed against him as I slipped my hands under his bum and palmed his round little cheeks.

“Wanted you for so long,” he panted, arching up towards the heat of my mouth. “Need you so much.”

“Love you so much.” I countered, honestly.

He whimpered, lifting his hips and I pulled his pants down over the curve of his bum, licking a stripe across each of his laurels as I stripped him from the single piece of clothing separating me from my destination.

He shivered when his hot, aroused flesh was revealed to the chilled night air of my attic bedroom and I sighed in relief at the sight.

I left him hanging for a beat, admiring the expanse of bare skin underneath me, the hard shaft lying, heavy across his hip... Until Harry’s hands fisted in the sheets on either side of us with a barely audible “ _Please..._ ”

I glanced up to find him biting down on his plump lower lip with a desperate frown creasing his brow. A huge part of me wanted to drag it out, torture him a little longer. But a small voice in the back of my mind reminded me how long we’d both waited. All the shit we’d been through over the past months, and all the shit we still needed to work through. Who knew when we’d have this chance again?

I swept my tongue up the length of his shaft and Harry bit down on his knuckle to stifle the whine that escaped. _Fuck,_ I wished we were home, in his tiny little flat where nobody could hear us and he could be as loud as he wanted while I slid his cock down my throat.

I took him as deep as I could, bathing the underside of his cock with my tongue and his feet pulled back, caging me in between steepled knees. Both hands tangled in my hair as I established a rhythm that he seemed to like, but he didn’t take over like his brother had the one time I’d done this with him. Instead, his nails scraped my scalp every time my tongue circled his shining head, and his thighs squeezed the curve of my waist every time I pulled off to jerk him slowly with my hand.

The tiny whimpers and moans escaping his lips drove me absolutely mad, and I rutted down into the mattress looking for the slightest bit of relief, but it wasn’t enough. Seeing Harry like this -- desperate and needy for _me_ \-- was more than I could handle. If I wasn’t careful, I’d come even before he did. I had to speed this up… and I had to get him off in the most spectacular way to make up for it.

I pulled off him, squeezing my eyes shut against the moan that vibrated from deep in his chest. “Fuck, you’re too much…” I sighed against the tiger on his thigh. “Too fucking much.”

I kissed up his leg, slipping my hands back underneath his hips as I reached the apex of those long legs I’d been fantasizing about for months. I used my thumbs to spread his cheeks and he whined, arching his hips forward. I took that as the okay I needed to swipe my tongue between his cheeks tasting him for the first time.

I groaned out loud, but I was completely drowned out, even to my own ears.

One of Harry’s hands left my head and I heard a soft thud as he flattened my pillow over his own face, followed by a barely muffled moan.

I bit down on the bottom edge of his cheek and ground down into the mattress. I’d never been with anyone so responsive as Harry. Never been with anyone who turned me on so much, who made my blood boil in my veins and my stomach flutter like a fucking school girl. I had never been with anyone who made me feel so much at once, it was absolutely overwhelming.

I released his cheek and leaned in to circle his rim with the tip of my tongue, pressing against his opening enough to make his knees tremble, but not enough to give him the satisfaction he truly craved.

When he was good and wet, I slipped my finger between my lips, wetting it thoroughly before taking his cock back into my mouth without warning.

“Fuck! Lou!” he gasped, hips jerking up into my mouth.

I hummed and took him deeper until his impressive length threatened my gag reflex, then I swallowed, taking him further -- all the way. My nose buried in the neatly trimmed nest of curls at the base of his cock and my index finger pressed firmly against his rosebud until he was shooting down my throat with a strangled cry, muffled by two hands clutching a pillow over his face.

I flopped back on the mattress beside him and reached for his hand where it lay splayed, boneless between us. “You’re amazing.” I panted.

He rolled into my side, free hand flopping hard onto my chest causing a squawk from me and another round of ridiculous giggles from Harry. And then his hand was sliding down my stomach, pushing my pants out of the way and wrapping round the obscene erection standing proud from my groin.

I groaned and twisted to the side, burying my face in his shoulder as he stroked me furiously. His lips found my neck kissed a line up to my ear. “Gonna make you mine.” he panted, “Never gonna give this up, I swear.”

And then I was cumming, biting down, hard on Harry’s shoulder as I covered my chest and stomach.

“Fuck,” I breathed, covering my face with both hands. “God, Harry, I--” I broke off with a jolt when I felt a warm, wet little kitten tongue swipe across my chest. I opened my eyes and watched in awe as Harry licked every drop of sticky white cum off my chest and stomach before leaning up to press a kiss to my cheek.

“C’mon, let’s go clean up.” he smiled, holding a hand out to me.

I was so shocked -- it had been so long since someone had taken care of me like this -- I just laid there, staring stupidly until he rolled his eyes fondly and tugged me up off the mattress.

“C’mon, Lazy,” he murmured, wrapping me in his arms and backing me towards the bathroom. “Wanna shower with you.”

My eyes squeezed closed and I pressed my lips to the middle of his chest, inhaling the sweaty, sweet smell of his skin. “I love you.” I whispered.

His hand came up to cup the back of my head as he reached into the shower to turn on the water. We waited for it to warm up before stepping in under the spray, then he wrapped both arms round me and dipped to press a kiss below my ear. “Happy birthday, Louis.”

 

“Shh… sneaky!” Harry whispered as the floorboards creaked. I heard a small giggle as the end of my mattress dipped, and then a small body was lowered onto my chest.

I wrapped my arms round Doris and rolled to the side burying my face in her curls as she wiggled and shrieked with laughter.

“Nooo! Achoo! Wake up!” she squealed.

Another dip and bounce of the mattress and I opened my eyes to find Harry settling down beside us with the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Wake up, Achoo. It’s your birthday.”

I reached for him with one hand and he threaded his fingers through mine as Doris sat up, bouncing between us.

“C’mon, breakfast!” she insisted. _”C’mon!”_

_”C’mon!_ Achoo!” Harry beamed. “Breakfast is ready!”

“Yeah?” I chuckled. “What are we having?”

“Everything! C’mon!” Doris repeated, tugging on my shoulder.

“Alright, alright, I’m up.” I chuckled, sitting up with a big yawn.

Doris crawled up onto Harry’s shoulders and fisted both hands in his messy hair before he pressed up onto his knees and carefully shuffled to the edge of the bed, holding her ankles against his chest all the way.

“C’mon, love.” he reminded me with a fond smile, when he caught me sitting there, staring dumbly as he wandered off with my baby sister.

I pulled on a pair of joggers and a t-shirt -- luckily we’d slipped back into our pants after showering last night -- and headed for the stairs.

“Nice shirt,” Harry smirked across the kitchen, as I joined the rest of the family.

“Thank you, it’s new.” I replied with a smug smile as I sidled up beside him at the kettle.

“You’ve got a hole.” he chuckled lowly, dipping his finger into the hole below my belly button.

“Can you stop flirting so we can say happy birthday?” Lottie asked loudly from where she was sat at the table with the rest of my family.

I flipped her the bird, but Harry just laughed and shoved me towards them with an order of, “Sit.”

“Happy birthday, love.” My mum beamed as I took the open chair beside her. She pulled me into a side hug and kissed my cheek just as a cup of tea was set in front of me by a long, tattooed arm.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Both of you.”

“In case you haven’t figured it out, this was all Harry.” Mum replied, gesturing at the spread of sausages, potatoes, eggs, bacon -- literally, everything.

“I figured.” I chuckled as he dropped into the seat beside me. “How long have you been up?”

“Little bit.” he shrugged with a small, dimpled smile.

“Long enough to help us take the dogs on a walk.” Phoebe piped up with a smirk.

“Speaking of which,” Harry turned to me with narrowed eyes, causing me to pause in piling my plate with bacon. “You told me once your sisters had a couple of puppies.”

“Yeah?” I frowned, vaguely remembering a conversation about the puppies the day Harry had been carrying Oliver round in a backpack.

“You didn’t tell me they were brothers.”

“Was that pertinent information?” I chuckled uncertainly.

“THEY’RE BASICALLY TWINS, LOU!!” he burst out, causing the kids to giggle into their hands.

“So?” I deadpanned.

“I’m in love with an idiot.” he sighed.

“Hey!” I gasped, affronted.

His lips curved up into a fond smile, and he leaned over and dropped a kiss to my cheekbone before turning back to begin filling his plate. “At least you’re a pretty idiot.”

The girls didn’t bother hiding their amusement, but I still couldn’t understand how I had become the butt of some big joke.

Until my eye caught a photo tacked to the fridge, halfway obscured by a snowman drawing Doris had done last week. It was a photo of Phoebe and Daisy standing in front of their piece at Zayn and Marcel’s gallery show. The _twin_ one. I could just see their heads leaned in together round the yellow sun drawn in the corner of the drawing.

“Ohhhh…” I grinned, turning back to Harry. “Sorry.”

“You know only something like three or four percent of the world’s population is made up of twins? I thought I was a rare commodity until I met you.”

“Nothing rare about you, in this house.” I shrugged.

“Afraid that’s my fault, love.” Mum chipped in with a smile just a little too fond. “Just means you should know you’re always welcome round here.”

Harry tried to hide his smile behind his tea, but his flushing cheeks gave him away immediately.

I knocked his knee under the table as the attention shifted off of him and he gave me a nudge back before sliding a sausage into his mouth. Aaand that was my cue to look away.

It was only when Harry and I were standing side by side, rinsing dishes and loading the dishwasher, that I realized what he’d said.

_I’m in love with an idiot._

He said that.

In front of my whole family.

I felt like I should be blushing at the realization. I wasn’t.

“Lou? You okay?”

I glanced up to find Harry holding the last plate out to me, and took it quickly, sliding it into place in the dishwasher and shutting the door with a loud rattle.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

His head quirked to the side and an amused frown creased his brow. “About dishes?” he laughed.

“About _us,_ Haz!” I groaned impatiently.

Harry’s features softened at the drop of a hat. “Of course, love.” he sighed, stepping into my space and looping his arms round my waist. “I love you. You know that.”

“So does my whole family, now.” I smirked, sliding my arms up round his neck.

He winced and his eyes ducked my gaze. “I was hoping you didn’t catch that.”

“I didn’t at first.” I chuckled, pressing closer. “Just hit me what you said a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry. I know we’re not, like--”

I cut him off with a firm press of my lips, and he didn’t take more than a moment to sink into it, closing the sliver of space between us, fisting my (his) t-shirt in both hands.

“Mum says stop snogging and come open your gifts.”

“Charlotte!” Mum’s voice scolded from the other room.

Our lips parted at the interruption, but I didn’t let him put even a centimeter of space between us.

_”What?!”_ Lottie laughed, as she backed out of the kitchen.

Harry’s forehead dropped to mine and he pulled his soft, lower lip between his teeth. “Guess we should--”

He snorted against my face when I interrupted him with another kiss, only to be interrupted _again_ by a smaller voice. “They’re still kissing!” Doris hissed from the doorway.

“Lou! Come _on!”_ Fizzy groaned. “He’s here all day!”

“Not long enough.” I sighed against his lips before taking a step back and letting my hands drop from his shoulders.

He caught one of them on the way down, and gave me a shy smile before nodding in the direction of the living room. “Come on, you’ve got presents to open.”

Lottie got me a cookbook of easy, 15 minute recipes with a whole section on no-bake desserts. She also got me an egg timer and a set of oven mitts, “Since the only ones in your flat, have a naked leprechaun on them.”

Fizzy got me a rainbow flag for my bedroom wall that made Harry beam with pride, and the girls got me a huge supply of all my favorite sweets. Harry promptly stole and ate a Cadbury Oreo, smirking the whole time.

And my parents got me a new pair of Vans -- begging me to throw out my old ones -- along with a new football kit and ball.

I was just about to get up and start a round of thank you hugs, when another gift was passed into my lap.

“What’s this?” I frowned at Harry.

“A gift?” he deadpanned. “That is what we’re doing here, isn’t it?”

“You already gave me my gift!” I argued. “Before I left.”

“I gave you your birthday gift before you left,” He conceded, “But I still owe you a Christmas gift and I won’t be here tomorrow, so…” he trailed off and nudged the package in my lap.

I lifted it to my ear and shook it gently before narrowing my eyes in deep thought. “Funny, it doesn’t _sound_ like a song.”

“I brought my guitar! I’ll sing you a song later!” he laughed into his hands. “Just bloody open it!”

The family all burst out in laughter as I finally gave in and tore at the paper revealing a photo frame with six spaces. And it was full.

It had what looked like outtakes from the photoshoot we did with the twins. A silly one of Phoebe and Daisy sticking their tongues out at the camera while they fixed their hair. Another of Doris and Ernie, mid air as they jumped off the stools into Harry and Marcel’s waiting arms. There was another of all four of them, the girls standing beside the twins who were stood on stools. Doris had her finger up at her twin like she was scolding him, and he looked like he was arguing back as the girls hid amused grins behind their backs.

Then there were the ones from the night of the Gallery show. Fizzy and Lottie blowing kisses at the camera. The three of us in a dog pile/piggyback combo that I remember resulted in all of us on the floor. And Harry and me.

It was nothing crazy. My eyes were crossed, and I was pointing up at him beside me. He had his arm draped round my shoulders and his tongue sticking out to the side. There was nothing romantic about it at all, we looked like two mates fooling around.

But I remembered that night. How awkward and embarrassing it was to pose for the camera on my own. How his bright eyes and dimpled smiles had eased the tension in my shoulders enough to get a couple of great photos. And how easy and carefree it felt once he joined me. How much fun I had, and how happy I was.

How he’d stayed the night and how I’d woken up to him snoring quietly beside me before he made breakfast for my sisters and me.

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a sappy, coupley photo. It was a great photo from a great night with a great boy and that was enough to send the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

 

After a round of hugs and thank yous, Harry helped me carry my pile of gifts upstairs to my room. The moment his arms were empty, I caught his hand and pulled him into a hug.

It took him a moment to respond, but once the surprise wore off, he looped his arms round my back and pressed a kiss to my temple.

“Thank you.” I mumbled into his chest. “I love it.”

“You’re welcome.” he chuckled into my hair. “There’s another one behind the one of the two of us in case you wanted to replace it but I just—“

“I don’t.” I cut him off. “I love it just the way it is.”

He gave me a shy smile before continuing. “I have more photos for you, too. I put them all on a thumbdrive for you. I got the ones of the kids from Marcel, too.”

I pulled back enough to frown up at him. “You did? What did he think about that?”

Harry blushed and gave me a small shrug. “I told him you and Lottie wanted to put something together for your mum for Christmas and he was fine with it. I may have left out the part about me using them as well.”

I sighed and chewed on my lower lip. “I wish we didn’t have to tiptoe around him.”

“I know.” he murmured.

“I just wish things were different.”

“I can’t change what’s happened, but I can fix the damage we’ve done. I just need…” he trailed off before reaching up and tilting my chin up with his finger. His eyes searched mine for a long moment before he whispered, “Can I just have a little more time?”

My fingers dug into his hips as I pulled him closer with a nod. “You’re not getting out of this that easily. Not again.”

He ducked his head and brushed his lips across mine once before breathing, “Not trying to.”

 

Since Harry’s train left at five, we really only had a few hours to spend together. After our big breakfast, we spent the rest of the morning playing with the kids. With all the sickness going round this week, I hadn’t soaked up nearly enough time with them as I needed, and it turned out Harry loved them more than he loved me, so it worked out perfectly.

We had a dance party in the living room, blasting Spice Girls and jumping round on the couches until my mum shouted at us to get down before someone got hurt. I didn’t feel the need to mention Harry had already fallen off the couch and bruised his already sore bum.

When the kids were herded off for naptime, Harry and Lottie dragged me to the kitchen where I sat on the counter and watched them bake me the red velvet cake I’d begged Lottie for weeks ago. It was Harry’s recipe from the bakery that Lottie had promised me she’d make me for my birthday, but having him here to help was another gift in itself.

As Harry poured the batter into two round cake pans, Lottie slid her keys into my hand behind his back. “Go check the boot.” she hissed.

“For what?” I frowned.

“GO!” she insisted, shoving me off the counter towards the door.

I shoved my feet into Harry’s boots because they were by the front door, and my shoes were two flights of stairs up, and tightened his hoodie round my shoulders before shuffling out to her car, parked in the drive. The boot was empty except for a single gold box with a white bow on top.

**To: Harry  
Love: Louis**

I lifted the lid carefully and grinned at what was inside.

Lottie was glancing back over her shoulder towards the kitchen as she met me at the front door. “You wrapped it for me?” I beamed.

“I know you planned to give it to him when you got back, but since I brought him with me, I figured I’d give you the chance.” she shrugged. “He’s just putting the cakes in the oven now.” she added as she wandered off towards the stairs.

Harry was doing dishes when I found him in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess Lottie had helped him make, but hadn’t bothered to help clear up. I set the gift aside and reached for a towel to help him dry the big mixing bowls that wouldn’t fit in the half-full dishwasher and he smiled as he passed them over.

“Where did you run off to?” he asked as he shut the dishwasher and dried his hands on a corner of my towel.

“Shopping.” I smirked, nodding over his shoulder.

He turned with a frown that only deepened when he spotted the gift sitting on the cutting board. “You bought this? Just now?” he asked, reaching for the parcel.

“No, you donut, I got it out of Lott’s car.” I laughed.

His cheeks tinged pink and he tugged on the edge of the bow with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Open it!”

“I can’t.” he frowned.

“Why?”

“It’s your birthday. It doesn’t feel right.”

“I need to see you open it, Harold!” I groaned, “I made this weeks ago and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since. I’m afraid it turned out shit, and I need to see your face when you open it otherwise I won’t ever trust that you don’t hate it.”

“I won’t hate it.” he laughed.

“If you did, you’d never tell me.” I pouted. “Pleeease! Just open it!”

“Alright! Jesus!” he laughed, “Just… Can you wait one second?” he asked, trying to hand it back to me.

“Why?” I frowned, backing out of reach.

“Because I still owe you one more gift. I’ll only open this early, if you let me sing to you first.” he stepped closer, arm extended, offering the box back to me, and I took it reluctantly.

“Fine. Go get your guitar. This better be fucking good.” I smirked.

I busied myself starting the kettle as he ran upstairs, then pulled out two chairs at the kitchen table.

“Okay.” he panted when he returned, guitar slung over his shoulder. “Keep in mind, I’ve only owned a guitar since Christmas last year, and I’ve never played for anyone but Niall, so if you hate it, do the decent thing and lie.”

“You know I’ll never do the decent thing.” I smirked as he dropped into the chair facing me.

“I hate you.” he grumbled as he adjusted the guitar in his lap.

“You love me.”

His cheeks burned rosy and his dimple popped as he dropped his gaze to the strings and stummed once before getting down to it. He started plucking and my lips curved into a smile when I recognized the song.

“I won't lie to you  
I know he's just not right for you  
And you can tell me if I'm off  
But I see it on your face  
When you say that he's the one that you want  
And you're spending all your time  
In this wrong situation  
And anytime you want it to stop

I know I can treat you better than he can  
And any boy like you deserves a gentleman  
Tell me why are we wasting time  
On all your wasted crying  
When you should be with me instead  
I know I can treat you better  
Better than he can!”

The moment Harry’s last note rang out, applause and shouts filled the kitchen. We both turned to find my entire family standing in the kitchen doorway beaming with pride.

“That was amazing, Harry!” Lottie gushed, rushing forward to give him a hug.

And that brought all the rest through to give him a hug, too. When Dan stopped to ask him how long he’d been playing my mum leaned down to give me a hug and whispered in my ear. “Don’t let him go.”

By the time Mum had convinced them all to leave us alone again, her words, coupled with the song he’d sang for me had really begun to sink in. I hadn’t had a chance to even respond before they’d interrupted, and now I found myself at a complete loss for words.

“That bad?” Harry asked, setting his guitar aside with an awkward chuckle.

“No!” I rushed to reassure him before clearing my throat in an attempt to dislodge whatever knot had taken up residence there. “No, love. It was great. You were amazing, really. Just…”

“Just?” he pressed when I trailed off.

“Just… that song. It kind of hit close to home, is all.” I shrugged.

“Tell me about it.” he chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “You’re the one who’s been playing it for months.”

His gaze dropped to where his hands were fidgeting in his lap and he shrugged before answering. “There may be a couple of things I haven’t told you…”

“What kind of things?” Coming from anybody else, those words would worry the shit out of me. But this was Harry.

“Remember that time Niall took me on a date?” he asked.

“When I had my first date with Marcel and he wanted to distract you?” I smirked.

“Erm, yeah.” he nodded. “Well, we, erm, went to the pub, see and got pretty pissed, and we were trying to decide what song to sing for karaoke, but I kind of wasn’t feeling it. So he said he would sing me a song to make me feel better. And he sang _Treat You Better_. Then he came off the stage and told me that he would be my boyfriend until you got your head out of your arse. He promised to treat me better than you had.” he winced at that last part, before glancing up to check my reaction.

“And did he?” I asked with a small smile. Technically my best friend had thrown some major shade behind my back, but it was true wasn’t it?

“You’re not mad?”

“At you, or him?”

“Him! Me! I don’t know, both of us?” he groaned. “He didn’t mean it like--”

“I know how he meant it.” I assured him, reaching forward to squeeze his knee. “And I’m glad he was around to treat you like you deserved when I was busy trying to find my way out of my own arse.”

His dimple made a soft impression in his cheek and I leaned in to press a kiss to it. “So he sang you this song…” I prodded, leaning back to listen to the rest of his story.

“Yeah. He sang me this song, and then took me bowling and bought me breakfast in the morning.”

“Sounds like a nice date.” I grinned.

“It was.” he chuckled. “Then I had that song stuck in my head for a few days, only I wasn’t thinking about it from the perspective of _Niall_ treating _me_ better. And it made me feel like shit. I didn’t want to think about my brother like that, and I didn’t want to think he wasn’t treating you well. But then as I realized more and more that he wasn’t… That song just wouldn’t leave my head. So I asked Niall to teach it to me.”

“Niall taught you?!”

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He, erm, he knew it was me in the bathroom.”

“No he didn’t.” I frowned. “He thought it was Marcel.”

Harry shrugged. “He figured it out, I guess. He told me he thought I deserved you and that I shouldn’t have given you up.”

“No argument there.” I smirked. “Still can’t figure out why you did…”

“I just wanted you--”

“To be happy, yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “There’s more to it than that, though, isn’t there?”

His shoulder lifted in a small shrug before he lifted his gaze to mine. “I guess I just came to the realization that Marcel was ready to put up a fight, and I didn’t want it to ruin our relationship.”

“Lot of good that did.” I sighed.

“I’m sorry.” he frowned.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment before I broke it with a clap of my hands. “This is getting depressing. Open your gift.”

His dimples pressed in, and he reached for the gold gift box on the table beside him.

“You’ll have to thank Lottie for bringing it with her. We couldn’t pick it up until Wednesday, so I planned on giving it to you when I got home.”

“What if I hate it?” he smirked.

“Then Lottie made it and I had nothing to do with it.”

He honked an embarrassingly loud laugh before lifting the lid and peeking into the box. His eyes lit up as he pulled it out and rotated it to look at it. “Lou. You _made_ this?” he breathed.

I shrugged self-consciously and rubbed a hand over the back of my neck. “I mean, I didn’t make the _cup._ But I did paint it.”

He ran a thumb over the rainbow I painted on the side before tipping it over to find my initials painted on bottom in blue. LWT. “Louis, this is amazing.”

“It isn’t _amazing,_ ” I rolled my eyes. “But I’m glad you like it.

“I love it.” he breathed lifting earnest eyes to mine. “Nobody has ever painted a mug for me.”

“You knew it did it.” I reminded him. “The girls told you.”

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. It’s different now. Now that we’re… different.”

I pursed my lips in an attempt to hide my fond smile before pushing to my feet and reaching out a hand for it.

He clutched it to his chest, shaking his head furiously. “Where are you taking it?”

“To the kettle, you knob.” I laughed. “I’ve made tea.”

Reluctantly, he handed it over and followed me across the room to the kettle. He pulled the milk from the fridge while I set about dropping bags in mugs -- his new rainbow one, and mine a fifteen year old one that said Football Mum on the side.

“We should make pottery.” I suddenly decided.

“What?” he laughed.

“Like, I painted this one. But we could probably find a class or something that lets you actually spin out a bowl or something. That would be fun, right?”

“Like a date?” he blushed.

My cheeks burned at the idea of a real date with Harry. “I mean… if you want.” I shrugged casually.

“You want to take me on a date?” he beamed, stepping into my space.

“Maybe.” I chuckled.

“You want to make pottery with me?” he asked in that low seductive voice he had.

“Maybe.” The tea bags needed to be removed, but his chest was pressing in closer and I couldn’t bring myself to move away.

“Like… Harry Pottery?”

That did it. “Nope. Not anymore.” I shoved him back and turned back to the mugs on the counter while he doubled over in laughter at his own awful joke.

“I hate you.” I announced, handing his tea over once he’d composed himself enough not to spill.

 

It was inevitable. Eventually, we ran out of time. Eventually he packed up his things -- not including his Rolling Stones t-shirt OR his gray hoodie, I noticed -- and we made our way downstairs. The girls gave him hugs and Lottie kissed him on the cheek, promising to call as soon as she got home. Mum whispered something in his ear that made him blush and kiss her on the cheek before shaking Dan’s hand and following me out to Lottie’s car.

“Do you even know how to drive?” he asked as I slid into the driver’s seat.

“Can’t be that hard, right?” I shrugged.

Harry choked on nothing and I burst out in laughter.

“Of _course_ I know how to drive, Harold! What the fuck?”

“I’ve never seen you drive!” he reasoned loudly. “You don’t have a car!”

“I don’t have a job.” I pointed out. “How would I pay for a car? Besides, you don’t need one in London.”

“Fine, just don’t kill me before I convince you to be my boyfriend.” he sighed, buckling in.

“Fine.” I retorted much softer than I’d intended before backing out of the driveway.

The drive to the train station wasn’t nearly long enough. All too soon, we were leaning against a pillar on the platform. I fidgeted with his rings, spinning the turquoise one round his long finger in an effort to put off goodbye.

“Have you decided when you’re coming home?” he finally asked, eyes sparkling hopefully.

“Lottie is heading home tomorrow night after dinner, but my mum would kill me if I dipped out so soon.” I sighed.

Harry’s face dropped for a split second before forcing a smile. “You should soak up as much time with your family as you can.” he nodded. 

“I promised Niall I’d pick him up from the airport, though, so I’ve got to be back before Thursday. Might be able to convince her to let me go Wednesday night.”

“Can I pick you up from the train?” He asked hopefully.

I grinned, stepping into his space. “Only if you’ll give me a ride to pick up Niall.”

“What’s the alternative?” He laughed.

“He calls you from the airport and begs for a ride because I failed to keep my promise?” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just hoped you’d agree.”

“Of course, I’ll drive you.” He chuckled.

“And you’ll text me when you make it home?” I pressed.

“I’ve got two hours on the train to kill.” He deadpanned. “I’ll text you before _you_ get home.”

“I wish you could stay.” I admitted softly.

“I can’t wait for you to come home.” He sighed. “Only three more days.”

The last call for Harry’s ride came over the loudspeaker and I sighed deeply before tugging him down for a long deep kiss. “Three more days.” I whispered like a promise.

 

** HARRY **

“Is that Louis?”

I looked up from my phone to find Marcel dropping down beside me. I was sitting on the floor in front of the fire, drinking our nan’s famous hot cider from one of her fancy Christmas goblets while we waited on dinner to be ready.

“Yeah, he woke up with the stomach flu.” I winced. “He says he’s only got hours to live and he’s leaving everything to Fizzy because she’s taking care of him, while all I’ve done is send photos of Christmas cookies.”

“So you’re together now?” he asked, aiming for casual and falling short.

“No.”

“That love bite on your neck tells a different story.”

I didn’t plan on having this conversation at our family Christmas dinner, but apparently Marcel had other ideas. “I’m in love with him.”

His eyes bulged for a moment before his brow creased in irritation. “So you _are_ toge--”

“No.” I insisted. “He won’t be with me.”

“Somehow, I doubt that.” he deadpanned.

“Not yet, at least.” I conceded. “I made him a promise, and I haven’t kept it yet.”

“What promise?”

“He made me promise I’d fix things with you. He won’t even have a conversation about the _possibility_ of a relationship until things between you and me are better. He doesn’t want to come between us.” Exaggeration, but I hoped it’d be worth it.

“Bit late for that, innit?” he scoffed.

“Alright, let’s just be a hundred percent honest, for once, yeah?” I sighed. “Louis didn’t come between us. We did. We both let this happen. He only knew half the story.”

“You hooked up with him in the beginning.” It was a bold statement, but he was guessing. He didn’t know anything for certain.

“So did you.” I countered quietly, glad that none of the family was paying us any attention. “The difference, was I didn’t go about it by lying to you.”

“You hid it from me, how is that any different?”

“Because I hid it from him, too.” I sighed. “He didn’t know it was me. I wasn’t trying to sway his opinion. I just… wanted to be with him. Even if it was just once.”

Marcel sighed and ran a hand over his face. “I could tell he wanted you, okay? And I… I don’t know. I couldn’t stand the thought of losing to you, again. I liked him too much.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t like him enough. You turned him into a game -- used him to get back at me for what Nick did to you. You ruined a good thing with a great guy and you blame everybody but yourself.”

“What happened to ‘we both let this happen?’ Where’s your blame in all this, then?” he scowled.

“You didn’t force me to do anything. I made those choices myself. I let you get in my head. I let you convince me to break all my rules. That’s not your fault, it’s mine. You had a terrible idea, yeah, but I’m the one who agreed to it. If it wasn’t for me, it never would have blossomed from a passing thought.”

“I know it was a bad idea, alright? I don’t need you rubbing it in. Everything that happened stemmed from that one stupid kiss. It ruined everything.”

“You thought of it, and I agreed to it. Like I said, we’re both to blame. I told him to date you when I should have told him the truth. He didn’t have all the information, so quit blaming him.”

“Fine.” Marcel sighed, before lifting a brow in my direction. “Did you tell him the truth?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“He’s been hurt enough,” I shrugged. “Why make him angry, too?”

Marcel’s brows pulled together in a frown, and he shook his head solemnly. “I fucked up.” he admitted. Finally.

“Why’d you do it?”

“I liked him.”

“Enough to go behind my back? To lie to my face? This is _me,_ kid. Not some random guy.”

“I was so sure he’d choose you.” he sighed. “Everyone always does. I never thought I had a chance, but I was so sick of coming second best, I couldn’t bring myself to give up so easily… I don’t know. I guess I just figured I might be able to nudge him toward a decision, one way or the other. That was the idea behind kissing him at least...”

“And when that didn’t work, you pushed it further.” I sighed, “I remember.”

“Logically, it should have worked.” He reasoned. “We’re _so_ different. Especially in… that aspect. Complete opposites. I thought if he just got a taste for each of us, if he couldn’t decide between our personalities, he might be able to decide between our… preferences.”

None of this was new information. We’d had several late night chats on the topic. The very first time someone made a joke about Marcel and me having a twin threesome in Year 10, I swore I’d never agree to it. He agreed at the time, and he never showed any kind of interest over the years, but it also never really came up in a serious way. Until three months ago, when Marcel broached the topic for the first time.

_”It’s not like you and I would be doing anything.” he had reasoned. “We just both kiss him. Give him a little preview of what he could have if he were to choose each of us.”_

_“It’s a thin line, kid.” I’d argued._

_“He likes us both, H. He’s never going to choose unless he knows us more intimately. We don’t have to actually hook up with him to show him what we like.”_

It had taken three days of pestering, but eventually I’d agreed to kiss Louis. And the morning after the party, when Marcel had silently pled with me to push it further, I let my cock make a decision that ultimately ruined the most important relationship in my life.

“Why did you give up, if you’re in love with him?” Marcel asked quietly.

“Because I love you more.” I sighed. “Why did you lie to me that night?”

He dropped his head in shame and shook it back and forth. “I don’t know. I don’t think I really planned it. I just… After Liam bailed on us, I left his flat fully intending on meeting you at the gym, but you weren’t off work yet. I found myself walking to Louis’ flat, and… I don’t know. I guess, I just saw the opportunity to get some one on one time with him, and I took it.”

“So you told me you should probably head to the library anyway, and instead went to fuck Louis.” My stomach twisted at the thought.

“I didn’t even plan on hooking up with him, honestly.” He sighed, knowing it didn’t change much, “Just thought we could hang out for a bit. We hadn’t done much of that up until that point. When things started to happen, I thought maybe he might actually want _me._ Then you showed up and he wanted to go after you the minute you left. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure… again. I knew things would change after that. I knew that — intentionally or not — I had caused things to change. I told him to go talk to you, knowing that you’d either come home with a boyfriend, or come home broken hearted. But neither happened.”

“I can home and told you that he’d chosen you.” I reminded him.

“You were lying though. I knew you were lying, but… I asked him out on a date the next morning anyways. He didn’t choose me. You told him to.”

“Yeah, I did.” I admitted easily. “I realized that night, that you wanted him enough to let him come between us. I wanted him, but I couldn’t lose you. I thought things would go back to normal if you got what you wanted.”

“So really, I’m the asshole who put a boy before my brother.” he sighed, eyes dropping guiltily.

“I told him to date you, because I thought you could make him happy.” I explained. “I knew he liked me, but he clearly liked you, too. I thought making the decision for him would be best for everyone involved.”

“But you were in love with him.”

“Maybe not at that point,” I shrugged. “I just wanted him to be happy.” It felt like the hundredth time I’d said those words. Except three months ago, I didn’t know what that meant. Now I do. “I still want him to be happy. And he’s gutted that we aren’t speaking.”

“So that’s why you’re doing this?” he scoffed. “He won’t date you until we’re best friends again?”

“Don’t do that.” I frowned.

“Are you looking for my permission? Go ahead, date him. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. I plan on dating him, one way or another. I’m sick of pretending we’re friends, just to spare your feelings. I can’t be just friends with him, Marcel. You were right about that, too. But I’m not looking for your permission. I was just trying to apologize for the way everything happened. Is it so much to ask that I could have both of you?”

I didn’t wait for an answer, just got up and went to find something stronger than apple juice.

 

_Me: How are you feeling?_

_Louis: Haven’t puked since about 3 . Think I’m starting to get over it_

_Me: That’s great! Make sure you drink loads of fluids._

_Louis: Yes mummy_

_Me: You were right, it’s creepy._

_Louis: I’m always right_

_Me: You’re always a pain in my arse._

_Louis: Not ALWAYS ..._

_Me: Oh my god stop!_

_Louis: I miss you ... and your arse_

_Me: Still hate you._

_Me: But I miss you too x_

_Louis: I need to see you in dresses and makeup_

_Me: Um. What?_

_Louis: Jagger used to dress in drag and wear makeup . Like all the time_

_Me: You’re reading your book???? :) :) :)_

_Louis: I’ve been in bed all day_

_Me: How do you like it? How far are you?_

_Louis: It’s actually very good . I’m still in the 70’s_

_Louis: The more I read the more you remind me of him_

_Me: Yeah?_

_Louis: I NEED to see you in dresses and makeup Harold_

_Me: Yeah?_

_Louis: YES_

_Me: We might be able to work something out..._

_Louis: Tell me you already have a dress_

_Me: I’ll admit nothing._

_Louis: I’m a dying man here styles_

_Me: You’re a recovering man who will be home in a couple of days._

_Louis: You’re going to make me wait aren’t you_

_Me: Call it motivation to come home to me._

_Louis: Fuck_

 

My stomach was in knots as I waited on the platform, fist wrapped round a bouquet of red carnations. I had never bought flowers for anybody in my life. Not my mum on Mother’s Day, not my ex-boyfriend of a year. Not even my gran that time she was in the hospital.

I loved flowers, of course, but I’d never been completely on board with the whole flowers-as-gifts thing. They died in like three days. Why would I give something that they couldn’t keep? I was a much bigger fan of teddy bears. That’s what I got Nathan for Valentines Day. That’s what I bought in the gift shop when my gran was in the hospital. I loved that most people didn’t actually _want_ a teddy bear but often felt too guilty to toss it in the bin.

But Louis had started something, and I needed to finish it.

I checked -- for probably the tenth time -- to make sure the card hadn’t fallen out in the snow somewhere, before tugging my coat a bit tighter round my shoulders. It was freezing, and I was so excited to pick him up that I’d arrived nearly half an hour early, only to stand in the snow with a bouquet of flowers that was probably dying even faster in this frigid weather.

A light appeared in the distance and my stomach did a flip as Louis’ train finally pulled up to the platform. I blew into my hands and adjusted my scarf one more time as I waited for him to stumble off the train, gently ducking round a slow-moving elderly couple before crashing into my chest at full speed.

My arms looped round his back -- padded with what felt like more than one hoodie under his coat -- and squeezed him tightly. The cellophane sleeve around the carnations crinkled and Louis shook his head against my chest.

“You’re not funny, you know.”

“Not trying to be.” I smirked against his beanie. “Just trying to declare my love for my future boyfriend, that’s all.”

He pulled back to grin up at me. “Oh is that all?”

I answered him with a soft smile before giving his sleeve a tug. “Come on, I’ve been standing here for ages and I’m frozen.”

He shot a knowing smile my way as he accepted his flowers and allowed me to take the big blue Ikea bag full of birthday and Christmas gifts he’d brought home with him. He caught my hand as we made our way out to my car and my cheeks warmed.

We weren’t _together_ \-- not yet -- but we were together, and that was enough, for now.

“Do you mind if we stop for food?” He asked as we tossed his bags in the back seat and climbed into the front. “I’m starving, and I know my kitchen is empty right now.”

“I have food at my flat,” I offered. “I can make you dinner?”

“No offense, love, but I’d rather starve.”

“What?!” I squawked as I started the car and turned the heater up to high. “You know better than anyone that I am a phenomenal cook.”

“I said no offense!” he whined, shoving my shoulder. “You’re my favorite cook, you know that! But love, I haven’t had anything but chicken noodle soup in almost _three days_ and I need some McDonald’s before I go mad.”

“Think that ship has sailed if you want McDonald’s as your first solid meal in half a week.”

“Pleeease?” he pouted, fluttering those God damned eyelashes at me. “I’ll buy!”

“You better,” I grumbled, throwing the car into reverse as I backed out of my spot. “I’m not spending my hard earned money on soggy chips.”

“I said I’ll pay!” he laughed.

We went through the drive thru and took the food to eat back at my flat where I’d left the heater running. He’d ordered a Big Mac and a large order of chips, forgoing a drink in favor of a cup of tea. While I shuffled around the kitchen making tea, he told me a story about watching the kids build a snowman through the window while he was getting over his flu the previous day. And when I joined him on the couch, I found he had already sorted out the soggy chips from the crispy ones on the coffee table.

“Take them.” he scoffed, shoving the crispy pile towards me. “You disgusting human.”

“So good to have you home.” I sighed dramatically, reaching for my chicken sandwich.

He turned sideways with an innocent smile and shoved his feet under my bum. Even with two inches of fresh snow outside, he refused to wear socks. “Tell me about your Christmas.” he asked softly. “I think I monopolized most of the conversation that day.”

“To be fair, you were dying.” I reasoned, chuckling when he took a massive bite of his burger.

“I was.” he agreed once he’d swallowed. “But I made a miraculous recovery, thanks to a hundred and fifty photos of gingerbread men, so thanks for that.”

“I do deserve credit.” I beamed.

“What did you do _besides_ bake all day?” he pressed.

I leaned back into the couch and took a bite of my sandwich, putting off the inevitable for just a little longer before admitting the truth. “I spoke with Marcel.”

Louis’ eyebrows arched up towards his fringe. “About?” he asked hopefully.

“About you and me. Him and me.” I shrugged. “It… didn’t go as well as I hoped.”

His face fell, taking my heart right along with it.

“I’m not giving up though. I promise. It’s important to me. I just… it didn’t go as planned.” I repeated with a sigh.

“What happened?” he asked quietly.

“I planned on asking him to come over or something, the day after Christmas. But then he confronted me when we were at my Gran’s for Christmas dinner. Apparently _someone_ left me a love bite, and he didn’t believe we weren’t together anymore.”

“Oops.” he smirked unapologetically.

I grinned, and continued. “I told him I’m in love with you. That we decided not to be together until I’d fixed things with him. We argued a bit, rehashed the whole fallout, and he accused me of only apologizing for everything because you wouldn’t date me until he’d forgiven me.” I winced before continuing. “I may have told him I planned on dating you, either way. That I didn’t need his blessing. That probably didn’t help matters.”

“Probably not.” he agreed with a sad smile. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine. All of this is.”

“How is that?” he frowned.

“I should have fought harder for you the first time around.” I shrugged.

“No argument there,” he smirked, setting his burger on the coffee table before crawling into my lap. He straddled my hips and looped his arms round my neck before adding, “You’ve got me now, though.”

“Have I?” I hummed, sliding my hands round to grip his bum.

“Literally, right in your lap.” he laughed softly. “And you haven’t even _tried_ to kiss me yet.”

My cheeks burned and I shrugged self-consciously. “I wasn’t sure if we were… doing all that.”

“Did you forget my birthday already?” he asked, feigning shock.

I did my best to hide my smile, but from the fond expression on Louis’ face, I’d say I failed. “It was weird, right?” I began slowly, only to backtrack when Lou’s eyes widened in misunderstanding. “No! Not the -- not being with you. Not that.”

“Okay…” he frowned. “Then what?”

“Being _home_ with you. At your parents’ house. It was like… another life.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

“It was like… we didn’t have all these issues and obstacles. We just had each other, and we got to play with the kids and hold hands and…” I trailed off with another shrug, a bit embarrassed at myself. I wasn’t even making sense. Until Louis squeezed my biceps with both hands and I lifted my gaze to find him nodding.

“Sort of like an alternate universe where it was just… easy, for once.” he agreed.

“Yeah.” I nodded, allowing a small smile. “I guess I just didn’t know if things would still be easy when you got home?” I didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it did.

Louis shrugged, his gaze dipping to the front of my purple jumper where his fingers played absently with the cross hanging from my neck. “What if it could be that easy?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we’ve been making too many excuses.” he admitted, leveling me with unsure eyes. “Like… you said it yourself. You plan on dating me either way… right?”

My lips curled into a slow smile and I looped my arms round his waist pulling him in close. “Are you saying you’ll be my boyfriend, Lou?”

He gave me a jerky shrug, eyes glued to my lips, cheeks a beautiful pink. “I mean... I still want you to fix things with Marcel. But like… is there really a difference if we make it official today or next week?”

“Yes.” I nodded. His eyes shot up to mine, worry creasing his brow and I beamed as I continued. “I’ll be so much happier if you don’t keep making me wait to call you my boyfriend.”

“I can’t start spoiling you now, can I?” he sighed dramatically. The little shit.

“ _Loouuu!_ ” I whined, burying my face in his shoulder.

His hands threaded into my hair and he massaged my scalp with his fingertips for a moment as he enjoyed my distress. “Al _right,_ if it means that much to you, I’ll make you a deal.” he finally sighed.

“I don’t even care that you’re being a twat, I’ll do whatever you want.” I mumbled into his chest.

“I’ll give you until New Years to fix things with him. And if you do, I’ll be your boyfriend at midnight. And if you don’t… I’ll still be your boyfriend at midnight.”

“What’s the point in waiting then?” I pouted.

“Give your stubborn brother one more chance to accept it before we make it official?” He shrugged uncertainly.

“I guess that’s fair.” I agreed with a sigh. “I can think of a way to make the wait a bit easier though...”

“And what’s that?” he murmured, dropping a kiss to my shoulder.

I lifted my head to look into his eyes and saw the soft, fond smile I fell in love with over the last few months. And I couldn’t hold back anymore. I cupped his cheek with one hand and pulled him into a soft kiss that immediately drew a whimper from his lips.

His hands tightened in my hair and a shiver ran down my back. He _knew_ what that did to me. I shifted my leg underneath him and rammed my shin into the leg of the coffee table, hissing in pain as Louis chuckled against my lips.

“Bed?” he breathed.

I hummed in agreement before slipping my hands underneath his bum and leaning forward, pushing to my feet before he had a chance to protest.

“Oi! I’ve got legs!” he squawked as I rounded the end of the couch, tripping over his shoes on the floor before stumbling into the bed.

“I’m faster.” I mumbled as I dropped him on his back. I crawled up between his legs and ran a hand up under his hoodie. My hoodie. “Love you in my clothes.” I sighed before leaning over to press a kiss just below his belly button.

“Figured that out when you packed me more of yours, than mine.” he answered breathlessly.

“Just the ones you already stole.” My words were muffled against his abs which flexed as his back arched under my touch.

“They were _gifts!”_ he insisted for the hundredth time in the last week.

It was true. I may have forgotten I loaned him my Rolling Stones shirt that day so long ago, but I’d done it knowing he’d go home wearing my favorite shirt. I’d wanked that night imagining him sleeping in it, curled up in his duvet all warm and soft. It was ridiculous. I knew he slept naked, logically that should turn me on more than seeing him in a ratty old t-shirt, but it didn’t.

I felt like a caveman, all possessive of this beautiful boy with the long eyelashes and cheekbones that could cut glass. He reached for me with sweater paws made from my own hoodie, and my teeth sank into his little love handle before I allowed him to pull me up for another snog.

“Missed you.” he breathed as his arms tightened round my back.

I dropped my forehead to his and inhaled deeply. “Can’t you just stay home from now on?” I whined -- pitifully, I knew.

“No.” he huffed a laugh against my lips and I rolled us so we were on our sides facing each other. “But I can take you with me next time. Think that would be best for everybody.” he smirked.

“Yeah?” I beamed, searching his eyes for any sign of uncertainty.

“Of course. My mum already invited you back whenever you want, you know that.”

“Yeah… Just still hard to believe.” I chuckled.

“That she likes you?”

“That any of you like me. That you _love_ me. That you’re going to be my boyfriend and I get to keep you.”

His eyes softened and he stroked a thumb across my cheekbone with a fond smile. “Believe it.”

 

_Lima Bean: Brekkie?_

_Me: Where? When?_

_Lima Bean: Waffle place Z likes. 20 mins?_

_Me: Sure. Got Lou with me too._

_Lima Bean: Of course you do._

_Me: 20 minutes._

 

I let Louis talk me into driving even though it was only a couple of blocks away. And since we weren’t walking he didn’t feel the need to bundle up quite as warm, which he apparently felt justified his complaining about how cold the car was the whole drive.

“Do you remember the last time we came here?” I asked, cutting off another chattering _Harrrooollllddd!_

“When all our friends made us feel bad about being friends?” he scoffed.

“Yeah.” I winced.

“I hate that they were right.”

“Do you?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Well. No.” He admitted with pink cheeks, “I just hate that they had to wait until after Marcel and I had dated and broken up to point out how gone for each other we were.”

“Are.” I corrected, pulling into an open parking spot outside the waffle place before reaching over to squeeze his knee. He covered my hand with his and returned my smile, which only proved to twist my gut at the thought of my next words. “Still are.”

“True.” he smirked. “Now can we only be gone for each other out here, or shall we head inside before my arse gets frozen to this God awful seat?”

“You’re walking home.” I deadpanned, hopping out of the car and shutting my door before he had a chance to retaliate.

He chased me inside where we found Liam, Zayn and -- surprisingly -- Marcel occupying a table in the back. The three of them exchanged a look as we approached but didn’t comment on my admission that Louis was with me this morning. Instead they all offered warm greetings as we took two of the three remaining seats at the table.

“Where’s Niall?” Zayn asked. “I thought he would be home by now.”

“We’re picking him up from the airport at noon.” Louis explained.

“We could have done dinner instead, if we’d known.” Liam frowned.

“So let’s do dinner, too.” I suggested. “We can have Lotts and Tommy over, too.” I added to Louis.

“Yeah, sounds good...” he nodded absently as he stared off over Zayn’s shoulder.

I followed his gaze and found a couple pulling on their coats near the exit, and when the large man turned round, his ogre-ish face immediately struck something in me.

“I’d recognize that arse anywhere!” Louis crowed, drawing the attention of everyone in the vicinity. “KEVIN! Where the fuck are my ice cube trays?!”

The man’s neck snapped up as his gaze found us across the room and his cheeks turned an awful shade of crimson before he shuffled his girl out the door, coat hanging loose from one arm.

“Who was that?” Liam asked as Louis and I dissolved into laughter.

“Ex-lover.” Louis shrugged nonchalantly — aside from the amused grin tugging at his lips.

“You’re joking.” Marcel deadpanned with wide eyes.

“Definitely joking.” I assured him with a grin.

“God, could you imagine?” Louis shuddered.

“He would break you.” Zayn agreed, concern mixed with mild amusement etched across his face.

“Thought he might, once.” I sighed, shaking my head as I remembered the day on the street when Louis had publicly humiliated a man three times his size.

“Wait, he has your ice cube trays?” Liam suddenly asked.

“No idea who he is, actually.” Louis chuckled, giving my thigh a reassuring squeeze under the table. “Just yelled at him once.”

“Why?” Marcel asked, reflecting the same expression of utter confusion that the other two boys wore.

“He made an ugly comment on the street when H and I were out once, so I pretended he was my ex-boyfriend and made a big gay scene in the middle of the street.” He was no longer smiling.

“Should have done to that guy at the gym last week.” Zayn rolled his eyes at Liam.

Marcel turned to question them further, but instead of joining in, I leaned into Louis’ side. “That was the day.” I whispered in his ear.

“What day?” he murmured, frowning up at me.

“The day I knew I loved you.”

His brow smoothed out and his hand found mine beneath the table, squeezing firmly.

“What did you say?” Zayn asked, breaking the spell.

I turned back to them and caught my brother studying us like he’d taken to doing over the last couple of months, but something was different this time. He didn’t have that intensity etched across his brow. His jaw wasn’t straining and he didn’t look like he was about to break the fork he held in his hand. _Progress._

“First off, don’t shout at anybody his size without a barrier between you.” I pled. “That guy was stuck in line for the ferrie and couldn’t get to us if he wanted to.”

“There was that many people around?” Marcel suddenly squawked a laugh and I felt my lips tip up into a pleased smile.

“It was rush hour. There were _so many people_ in line.” Louis laughed. “And I was _loud_.”

“I was stood across the street and heard every word.” I agreed with a fond smile.

We spent the rest of our meal recounting the events of that day and joking about the things we could have or should have said to people who had made ugly, homophobic comments to us over the years. We made plans to meet back up at Lou’s flat later that evening for dinner and in the meantime, he and I headed for the airport.

We were in the car about five minutes before Louis broke the silence. “That was the day you knew you loved me?”

“I mean,” I shrugged. “That was the day I stopped trying to convince myself I didn’t.”

“Because I yelled obscenities at a stranger on the street?” he laughed.

“No,” I chuckled, reaching for his hand. “Because you stood up to a homophobic ogre three times your size on my behalf. I could pretend a lot of things, but I couldn’t pretend that wasn’t the best thing anybody has ever done for me.”

“Nobody should get away with saying the things he said.” he frowned. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard something like that, and I’m positive it won’t be the last. But hopefully it was the last time that man said something like that.”

“I am in love with a man who cares about people and the LGBT community enough to put himself in an unsafe situation to defend us.”

“There was a barrier between us.” he shrugged self-consciously.

I grinned, “Well I’m very thankful that I’m also in love with a man who doesn’t take unnecessary risks.”

“And here I am, with only a blowjob story.” he sighed dramatically.

“Heyyy!” I pouted. “You said it was because I was being honest!”

“It was.” he chuckled. “And you’ve only been more and more open with me since… well, since that day at the Anchor, actually.”

“I’ve been trying to be.” I admitted. “Before that I was kind of denying my feelings, hoping they would go away. Hiding part of myself, hoping I’d get over you and we could just be mates. That day changed everything.”

“It was like… the first time we got to just be ourselves together.” he agreed with a smile.

“Like, the first of a hundred perfect days together.” I agreed.

“Without Marcel or the other lads watching us like hawks, judging every move we made.” he smirked.

“I love our friends,” I chuckled, “But being alone with you is… just easier. Everything is easy with you.” I added squeezing his hand affectionately. It might not always be true. We had definitely had our struggles and we still had a lot to work out, but when it came down to it, when it was just us, it couldn’t be better.

“Yeah.” he blushed. “That was a great day, though. You picked a good one.”

“I picked a good boy.” I beamed.

“You’re a sap.” he rolled his eyes, but his lips pressed together into a point the way they did when he was trying to hide a smile.

“We should go back there sometime.” I suggested turning my attention back to the road.

“Recreate our first date?” he chuckled.

“Date?” I blushed, hiding a grin of my own now.

“Sure felt like one.” he murmured, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah,” I sighed. “Maybe it did.”

 

“ _Move, fuckers!_ My friends are here!” Niall shouted as he sprinted across baggage claim and lunged at the two of us. He crushed us both in a tight hug, sandwiching his face between both of ours and holding on for dear life.

“Missed you, lad.” Louis chuckled, returning his hug with equal enthusiasm. “How was leprechaun land?”

“Brought you beer.” he beamed before pressing up onto his toes and planting a kiss on my cheek. “HI, HAZ!” he shouted in my face.

“Hey, love.” I grinned, squeezing his shoulder as he stepped out of our embrace. “How was your holiday?”

“Good to be home.” he smiled.

We got his suitcase from baggage claim before making our way back out to the yacht and Niall flopped down across the back seat with a deep sigh.

“Alright, mate?” Louis prodded, twisting in his own seat to frown at the Irish lad.

“Just… good to be back.” He sighed. “Away from the family drama. Back with the lads.” He added, sitting up with a grin. “We’re going to rage this week, aren’t we?”

“Sure.” Louis chuckled turning back towards the front as I merged out into traffic. “Erm, I don’t know what you’re thinking for New Years, but—“

“There’s a party at that club we went to for Halloween.” He cut in. “Ed and I were talking about going, but nothing has been decided for sure.”

Louis and I exchanged a glance before I shrugged and gave him a small nod.

“Sounds good to us.” He agreed, “We can talk to the lads about it tonight. Everyone’s coming over for dinner. Tell Ed he better be there.”

“You don’t have any food at your flat, remember?” I reminded him softly as Niall began tapping away at his phone.

“We’re going to need to stop at Tesco’s, yeah? Ni, you want to come with us or do you want to go home?”

“You can’t be trusted to do the shopping on your own and we need more than just dinner, so I’ll come with.”

My lips curved up into a grin as Lou shrugged. “That’s fair.”

“What do you think about pizzas.” I asked as I headed towards Tesco’s. “We could make a bunch of personal sized crusts and do up our own toppings?”

“Yes!” Niall exclaimed.

“I had chicken soup for three days straight, literally anything sounds good to me at this point.” Lou sighed.

“Chicken soup?” Niall frowned. “Were you sick?”

“Nearly died.” I smirked across at him.

“Kids gave me the plague.” The rest of the ride, he explained about how he’d spent a majority of his time home avoiding the germs and helping his mum take care of sick babies before finishing with his own tragic tale. “Spent Christmas Day puking me guts out and slept it off for about forty eight hours after that.”

“No wonder I haven’t heard from you all week.” He pouted as we got out of the car and rounded the back.

“Sorry, lad.” He apologized as he threw an arm round his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek before taking his hand and skipping through the door.

 

It turned out shopping with Louis was nothing compared to shopping with him and Niall together. It took about an hour longer than necessary to gather enough ingredients and toppings for our pizza dinner and the rest of the groceries they needed for the week. I put back roughly half of what Louis tried to sneak into the cart (including feminine products and an entire display of clearance Christmas sweets) while Niall spent a good twenty minutes trying to choose a dessert from the frozen aisle.

When Louis picked up a bag of marshmallows to accompany the box of hot cocoa he’d convinced me to keep, I made the mistake of turning my back on him to check the basket for any other splurge purchases. And that’s when an entire bag of marshmallows hit me in the back of the head.

I spun on my heel to face him, only to be hit in the chest with a second bag. “Oi!” I squawked, as he raised a third bag. “Why are you wasting perfectly goo—“ number three hit me directly in the face. “LOU!”

“Yes?” He asked innocently.

I took a step towards him as I shook my head in amusement. “Can I help you?”

Another bag flying through the air was my only answer.

“Would you like to tell me which of these lovely bags of marshmallows you’d like to purchase today?” I asked, sneaking another step closer.

He lifted another bag above his head, but I leapt forward, catching his wrist in a tight grip and pressing him back against the shelf behind him before it left his grasp. “Love, you can’t just throw food all over the place. We’ll get kicked out before we can buy any.”

“Do marshmallows really count as food?” He asked casually. As if we weren’t pressed together closer than we should be in public.

I felt a twitch in my pants as he looked up at me with those mischievous blue eyes and I shook my head in amusement. “Can I trust you not to throw anything else, if I let you go?”

“Honestly?” He smirked.

I huffed a laugh in his face and dropped a kiss to his forehead before dropping his wrist and backing away to clean up the mess he’d made. Only the moment I turned back to him, arms filled with bags of marshmallows, yet another hit me in the face. “LOU!” I exclaimed, trying to sound exasperated but falling short when a loud laugh escaped my lips.

He reached for another one and I dropped the six or seven in my arms in order to catch him round the waist. We ended up in a struggle, each fighting for the upper hand. Louis was doing his best to hit me over the head with the soft bag, while I was attempting to pry it from his hands while simultaneously blocking each of his flailing blows.

“Will you two just kiss, and get it over with?” Niall’s voice had us freezing in our tracks. I had one arm round Louis’ waist and the other over my head, holding a bag just out of his reach, and he was wrapped around me like a monkey on a tree, trying to get to it.

We both turned our heads to find Niall leaning against the handle on our trolley with a bored smile tilting his lips up.

“What?” Louis choked out.

But before Niall could respond, and before Louis could react, I dipped him like the princess he was and planted a smacking kiss on his silky lips. And then I dropped him on his bum, and tossed the bag I was holding into the trolley.

“Help me clean up his mess, will ya?” I asked Niall, ignoring Louis’ indignant squawk.

“It’s all I do.” he shrugged before reaching for the bags that had made it the farthest.

Once all seven bags had made it back onto the shelf, I turned to Louis, who was still pouting on the cold tile floor. “Are you ready to behave?” I asked, hands on my hips.

“Are you ready to give me the attention I deserve?”

“You have my undivided attention, love.” I chuckled fondly.

“You guys are disgusting.” Niall sighed, taking control of the trolley and heading for the checkout stand. I didn’t miss the smile he shot me over Lou’s shoulder though. And I didn’t hesitate in returning it.

“Come on, if you let us get home without incident, I’ll cuddle your arse off until everyone shows up for dinner.” I offered, giving his sleeve a tug.

“Was that so hard?” he asked with an exasperated sigh.

I draped my arm round his shoulders and tucked him into my side with a soft smile before dropping a kiss to his temple.

 

I made a bunch of dough and roped Louis into helping me form about a dozen crusts out of it. We were chopping vegetables and arguing over the merits of pineapple on pizza -- Louis swore it was his favorite, and even though I _knew_ he was just trying to rile me up, it was working -- when Zayn, Liam and Marcel arrived. Niall had called Ed the moment we got home, and within twenty minutes they were playing Mario Kart on the couch, shouting at each other as if they’d never snogged or… whatever they’d been up to.

Liam immediately joined us in the kitchen -- sweeping up the cheese Louis had spilled when he was trying to steal a handful to eat out of the bowl I was grating it into -- while Zayn and Marcel joined the other boys in the living room.

“What are you doing?” Liam groaned as Louis hopped up on the countertop next to my cutting board. “You’re putting your ass too close to the mushrooms! Harry! Get his ass away from the mushrooms!”

“If you think he’ll listen to me, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“He’ll listen to you better than anyone else!” Niall called from the couch.

“Oi! I don’t listen to anyone!” Louis argued.

“Just argues with everyone.”

I turned to find my brother leaning against the door jam with an uncertain smirk. Like he wasn’t sure his jokes were welcome, but he was trying it out. “You should see him try to explain to a toddler why he’s allowed to throw food at the table, but she isn’t.” I grinned, silently reassuring him. “Not even the babies are safe.”

“You’re spiking Liam’s blood pressure through the roof.” he chuckled to Louis. “Why don’t you pass me the mushrooms and I’ll put them as far away from your ass as possible.”

“If you’re talking about your stomach, the answer is no.” I deadpanned.

“I was talking about the other end of the kitchen, but if you don’t want my help, I’ll just take Liam with me as I go.” he shot back good naturedly. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had a bit of even semi-comfortable banter like this. We’d had a nice time picking up the Christmas tree and decorating it with the family, but it was still… off. And then after the argument on Christmas, I didn’t expect things to be easy this quickly. It wasn’t _easy_ easy. But it was better than I could have hoped for after just a few days.

“Louis! Don’t stick your fingers in the olive bowl!” Liam whined.

“Alright, get him out of here, and I’ll let you cut the onion.” I laughed, shoving Liam towards him.

I turned back to my work in time for an olive topped pinky to push into my mouth without a word.

“Thanks.” I laughed as I chewed and swallowed it.

“Louis couldn’t have chopped the onion?” Marcel asked as he returned from depositing Liam in Zayn’s lap.

“He wears contacts, it hurts his eyes.” I shrugged.

“I have special eyes!” he announced with a flutter of his gorgeous lashes.

“You always wear contacts?” Marcel asked with a little frown.

“Except when I’m sleeping.” Louis shrugged beside me, picking through the bowl of jalapeño I was cutting up. He lifted his gaze over my shoulder and froze with a piece halfway to his lips. “Usually.” he corrected himself.

The warmth that spread through my belly knowing Marcel hadn’t known -- hadn’t seen him looking soft and comfortable wrapped in a duvet and glasses as he studied late at night -- was unjustified. They’d dated. They had seen parts of each other that Louis and I hadn’t. Done things we hadn’t. My stomach knotted everytime those thoughts crept in.

But I had seen things Marcel hadn’t. I had seen Louis curled up on my sofa in my hoodie as he nursed a hangover. I’d seen him drunk and fucked out of his mind in a pub toilet. I’d seen him sassy, yet soft as he argued with his mum over his ability to make it through the day without socks. And I’d seen him melt into a puddle of goo at the mention of the L word.

“Fuck!” I hissed, clutching my hand to my chest as the knife clattered to the cutting board.

“Shit, Harry!” Louis gasped, hopping off the counter and circling to the sink on my other side. He yanked off a wad of kitchen towel and turned me, gently easing my hands away from my chest. “How bad is it?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

“Scared to look.” I admitted with a huff. I worked in a kitchen, I’d had accidents. But this felt worse than I’d ever done before. “Burning a bit.” I winced, averting my eyes as Louis peeled my other hand away.

“That’s probably the jalapeño.” Marcel chipped in, stepping up behind Louis to watch over his shoulder.

Louis wiped gingerly at the side of my finger and I saw the moment the wound was revealed. Both their eyes widened for the smallest moment before they forced a calm over their features.

“We need to stop the bleeding first. Then we can clean the jalapeño juice out of it.” Louis explained.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Gonna make him spew talking like that.” Marcel sighed, dropping a hand to Louis’ shoulder. “Go clean him up, I’ll finish up in here.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, repressing a shudder as Louis wrapped my finger in his kitchen towel and squeezed firmly before leading me out of the room.

“Who knew you were squeamish.” he muttered as we hurried past the other boys towards his bedroom.

“Li, go help the Kid finish up?” I called over my shoulder. Then I turned back to Louis, keeping my eyes on his soft fringe instead of the bloody mess I knew my hand was as I answered him. “It’s just this. Cuts. They make me a bit woozy. I’m fine with just about everything else, I promise.”

“Why cuts, then?” he asked, backing me up against the sink in his bathroom. “Up.”

I slid up onto the vanity as I shrugged. “When I first started shaving, I had a little incident. My razor was starting to get a little old, but I needed to shave for a wedding we were going to, and I didn’t have time to find another one. It was clogged with hair, so I ran my thumb across it to wipe it off, and--”

“Shit.” he winced. “Hold onto this, yeah? Firm pressure.”

I did as I was told, wrapping my good hand round my index finger and the towel around it as Louis crouched, opening the cabinet below me. “Four perfect slices across my fingertip.” I continued. “I’d never had a problem before that, but… I don’t know what happened. I nearly fainted. Sat on the bathroom floor for about five minutes just breathing through it before Marcel found me and put a plaster on so I couldn’t see it. I wasn’t even bleeding, wasn’t deep enough. But I felt a bit woozy for a couple more days because every time I touched something I could feel each slice spread open. Do you know how many things you use the tip of your thumb for?”

“Quite a bit, I’m sure.” he chuckled, pushing back up to his feet with a metal box in hand. “Doing okay?”

“Trying not to think about it too hard.”

“Just thinking about the last one, instead?” he laughed. “Whatever helps, I guess.”

“How bad is it?” I asked with a wince as he took my hand back and gently removed the towel.

“Probably won’t need to amputate.”

“Louis!” I whined, squeezing my eyes shut.

“I’m joking, love, Jesus. Don’t worry. Nothing to puke over. And I’ve been puked on enough for one week, I don’t need you to be next.”

“I’ll do my best.” I took a deep breath in through my nose, but it was cut short when Louis’ soft lips pressed against mine.

“You’re going to be fine, love. I promise.”

I opened my eyes and watched his face transform into a look of concentration as he pulled my hand to the side, washing it and patting it dry with a clean flannel.

“Still burning, or is that better?” he asked, looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Burning’s gone… starting to sting a bit now.” I sighed.

“Alright, I’ve got something that’s going to make it a bit worse for a second, okay? But we’ve got to clean it.”

I groaned, but nodded my consent before he dabbed a cotton ball against my wound drawing a hiss from my lips.

“You’re being so brave.” he murmured softly.

“I can’t tell if you’re taking the piss or not.” I pouted.

He kissed the pout off my lips before reaching into the kit he’d set up beside me. “Do you want Finding Nemo or Little Mermaid?” he asked, holding up two boxes of childrens plasters.

“Little Mermaid.” I scoffed.

“You’re not allowed to watch Little Mermaid.” Marcel sighed as he stopped in the doorway behind Louis. “How’s it going in here?”

“Nearly finished, yeah.” Louis nodded, squinting in concentration as he worked on me. “Why can’t you watch Little Mermaid?”

“I can!”

“He cries every time.” Marcel rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “He hates that she leaves her family in the end.”

“She’s got her prince!” Louis argued, shaking his head in amusement.

“I just don’t understand why she can’t have both! She locks them all out of the palace in the second one!”

“Pizzas are ready.” Marcel announced with an eyeroll. It was an argument he’d given up on when we were about twelve. “And Lottie and Tommy just arrived.”

Louis ripped the wrapper off a plaster and carefully covered my cut with it, pressing down firmly on either side of my hand before bringing it up to his lips to kiss. “Ready for pizza?”

“Is there blood in the jalapeños?” I frowned.

“There’s not blood anywhere, I promise.” Marcel assured me.

“Alright.” I glanced down at my hand and smiled slightly at the sight of Ariel beaming up at me from the biggest plaster I’d ever seen. The realization caused my smile to vanish. “Why’s it so big?!”

“The cut is not that big.” Louis rushed to assure me. “I just wanted to cover it fully so you didn’t see it by accident. You’ll only see it if you want to. If not, I’ll change your plaster for you tomorrow if you like.”

I sighed, draping my arms over his shoulders and sinking into him. “Thank you for taking care of me.” I murmured into his neck.

“Always.” he sighed, squeezing me back.

When I pulled out of our embrace, Marcel was gone.

 

Louis made me a pizza and cleaned up the mess the others had left while they baked. His oven fit three pizzas comfortably, and each of ours went in with Marcel’s. He didn’t make eye contact as Louis passed him his pizza on a plate once he’d pulled them out, and I wondered if the little bit of progress he’d shown tonight had completely gone out the window with one hug.

I hoped not. But as Louis and I sat on the floor with our pizzas and beers, his silence was deafening. Louis joined an argument with Niall and Tommy about football, and Ed shouted opinions that didn’t hold any relevance to the conversation, while I watched Marcel pick at the label on his beer bottle.

He’d shifted. Again.

“You picked a good nurse.” Lottie murmured as she dropped down between Lou and me.

“Yeah?” I blushed.

She tilted her head to the side and lifted her hair to show me a thin, shining scar along her hairline, nearly blending in with her bleach blonde hair behind her ear. “First time we ever got drunk together, last year at New Year's, I tripped and caught my head on the corner of the table. He cleaned me up and gave me a Cinderella plaster.”

“That's sweet.” I sighed, smiling fondly.

“And this,” her long pink nail traced a round scar on her elbow. “Fizz pushed me off her bike when we were about eight and Louis patched me up then too.”

We’d caught Louis’ attention now, and I grinned at him over Lottie’s head.

“This one was actually his fault.” She pulled the ankle of her jeans up to show me a nasty looking scar on her shin.

_”Not_ my fault!” Louis insisted loudly.

“He _accidentally_ tripped me playing footie in the yard when I was about six. Caught my shin on a rock in the grass. But he did clean me up, after.”

“No wonder he keeps so many plasters in that kit with you around!” I teased, nudging her elbow playfully.

“Multiply that by six and you've got your answer.” Louis rolled his eyes fondly.

“Remember when I broke a beer bottle and sliced my hand open, Tommo?” Niall asked with a loud laugh.

“Louis patched you up too?” I guessed.

“I mean, yeah.” he shrugged as if that part was obvious. “Only he was wasted too. We passed out on his bed when he was done and when we woke up he begged for breakfast. Said I owed him for playing doctor, like I wasn’t already his personal chef. So I went out to the kitchen and stepped on the glass we forgot to clean up. He had to carry me back in there to pull the glass out and clean me up all over again.”

“Still say you needed stitches on that one.” Louis shook his head.

“Dr. Tomlinson, is it?” I smirked, ignoring the rolling in my stomach at the mention of stitches.

“Play your cards right and maybe you'll get a full examination later.”


End file.
